


This is Why

by starspangledmeatball



Series: Earth Tones Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: :), Angst, Autism, Autistic Hermione Granger, Black Hermione Granger, Cedric Diggory Lives, Disabled side characters, F/M, I'm working through some stuff, Latina Hermione Granger, Positive Female Friendships, Prosthetics, Warning: Heavy Topics, Warning: Language, Wheelchairs, but he's gonna wish he were dead, disabled main character, new types of magic, not as dark as the movies though you can't see nothing with those, some people are gonna die tho, this is just gonna be very dark, ummm what else, warning: bullying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2020-01-16 16:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 102,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18525613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starspangledmeatball/pseuds/starspangledmeatball
Summary: Sequel to Because Why Not. If I put an actual summary then I'm gonna spoil stuff





	1. Uhhh, What?

**Author's Note:**

> This story will get finished.  
> Eventually.

With both witnesses unconscious, nobody knew what happened. Hermione had been watching with horror along with everyone else at the obstacles each Champion had to face, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor’s being the most difficult. Seeing them get hurt, their faces twisting in fear or pain, all live for everyone to see. She was glad there wasn’t any audio. She wasn’t sure if she could stand the sound.

Once Viktor attacked Cedric, everyone went crazy throwing speculation around, until Cedric signed to them.

“Viktor was imperiused!” Esperanza shouted, jumping to her feet. “Somebody stop this!”

“It’s obviously just Viktor going wild,” said Bagman. “Certainly he wants this as much as anyone.”

Esperanza looked back up at the projection. Hermione understood enough sign to know what they said.

_BAGMAN GUILTY_

“You’re the one rigging this!” Hermione accused. “Set them free right now!”

Bagman stuttered and disapparated, further proving his guilt. The crystals went dead shortly after and nobody knew what was happening behind those hedges. The teachers and those working on the Tournament began running around trying to get to the Champions, but found an enchantment had been placed not allowing anyone in unless someone specifically cast _vermillious_.

“Surely _something_ can be done,” Beatrice cried. “They’re just kids.”

A blood curdling scream silenced the stands. Hermione looked up and saw a figure flying high into the air. She drew her wand.

_“Arresto momentum!”_

The body slowed but still landed heavily in the center of the clearing, sliding to a stop and going still.

“Viktor!” Esperanza cried, jumping to her feet and racing to his side, his parents and Hermione not far behind.

Poor Viktor was beat up and his leg wasn’t looking quite right. He coughed, which was a good sign that he was still alive.

“Viktor, amor, speak to me,” said Esperanza.

“Get a Healer!” Mr. Krum bellowed at the gaping crowd.

Viktor’s eyes snapped open in panic He scrabbled around in search of his wand until he set eyes on Hermione.

“It’s okay, Viktor,” she said. “You’re out of the maze.”

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

“My leg…”

“It looks dislocated,” said a Healer, inspecting it. “We can fix that.”

“What did this to you?” Mrs. Krum demanded.

“A-a monster,” said Viktor looking panicked. “D-don’t let it take me!” He hyperventilated and babbled in Bulgarian until Esperanza wrapped him in her arms and tapped his forehead with her wand.

_“Entumecerse,”_ she said.

Viktor’s eyes slid shut and he went limp. Esperanza carefully laid him back so the Healer could tend to him and his parents could fuss.

Moments later, red sparks flew in the air and people were able to get inside the Maze. Fleur was brought out by Bill, still twisted up in roots from the hedges. She cried too about a disfigured beast.

Hermione anxiously waited for Cedric and Harry to come out with a teacher, but it didn’t happen. Rumors spread amongst the workers that there was a mysterious golden fog consuming the very inside of the maze and all they could do now was rescue what was still alive inside.

Then they received word that the Triwizard Cup was gone, but rather than deposit them at the entrance, Cedric and Harry had simply… disappeared.

Oddly enough, Karkaroff screamed something in Russian and disappeared too, which left a sick feeling in Hermione’s stomach. She ripped off her eyepatch and looked at Snape’s left arm. It shone and pulsed angrily. Professor Snape stiffened and looked at it before moving on with calming down the crowds.

Hermione went back to her parents.

“You have to get out of here,” she said. “I think Voldemort is trying to make a return. First people he’ll go after are No-Majs.”

“If we have to leave you’re coming too,” said Roger. “We’re not letting you get hurt.”

“Look!” Amalea shouted.

Hermione whipped around, her heart soared when she saw Cedric and Harry, but the feeling stopped dead when she saw the state they were in.

“He’s back!” Cedric shouted, the clearing falling silent. “Voldemort’s back!”

~o0o~

Hermione didn’t bother grabbing her trunk. She packed it away in her beaded purse that morning. Hell, she had planned on running away with Cedric tonight as soon as he exited the maze. She’d announce that he won a fabulous prize. An all expenses paid trip to Hawaii.

That would have to be put on hold.

All of the Champions were being rushed to St. Mungo’s at the moment.

Hermione and her family raced out of the Arena to Hogsmeade, where they grabbed their luggage and hailed down the Knight Bus. The Delacours were not far behind. Mr. and Mrs. Krum apparated there. Basira and Amos caught the bus just in time.

“My name is Stan Shunpike and I am—”

“St. Mungo’s,” Hermione interrupted.

Basira shoved a handful of coins at him. “Hurry, please.”

“Take it away, Ern,” said Stan, shrugging and accepting the coins.

“Yeah, take it away, Ernie!”

Everyone was flung back into seats, bags and suitcases spilling everywhere as they tried not to get whiplash.

“Have you ever heard of seatbelts?!” Beatrice shouted, holding onto her husband and child. “Every vehicle is obligated to have them by law!”

Stan eyed them. “Are you wizards?”

“If we’re not are you going to kick us off?” Beatrice challenged.

“Er— no.” Stan shrank under the glare of Basira. “Erm, what business do muggles have takin’ the Knight Bus anywho?”

“We have to get to St. Mungo’s,” repeated Hermione.

“‘ey,” said the Shrunken Head. “Wasn’ that Tournament tonight?”

“Oh, yeah!” said Stan. “How was that? Any good?”

The families glared at him.

“No,” said Basira. “It wasn’t.”

“Oh, shame,” said Stan. “Wha’ happened?”

“Take a wild guess as to why we are all going to St. Mungo’s.”

Stan’s eyes widened. “Merlin’s beard…”

Ernie grunted and seemed to drive a little bit faster if that were even possible.

“England sucks,” said Amalea.

“Technically, this is Scotland,” said Stan. The bus lurched. “Now, we’re in England.”

Hermione gripped onto her purse and felt a surge of panic.

“Is Cedric going to die?” she whispered, feeling sick to her stomach. “What if the Healers don’t help him because he was infected?”

“We won’t let that happen,” said Hana.

Ernie slammed on the breaks throwing everyone out of their beds.

“‘ere we are,” said Stan. “St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies.”

As one, they piled out and hurried inside. The greeter witch looked up from her magazine.

“Cedric Diggory,” said Hermione, approaching the greeter witch. “Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacour, and Harry Potter.”

“Hey! I remember you,” she said. “You were here—”

“In January,” said Hermione waving her hand. “Where is Cedric?”

“I’m sorry,” said the witch. “We can’t allow anyone back there at this time.”

Esperanza slammed her hand down on the counter and leaned forward.

“You tell us where they are _right now_!” she growled.

Cowering, she pointed down the hallway on the right side.

“Down there,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” said Esperanza.

The stampede hurried down the hallway. Manuia hung back in the lobby with Gabby and Amalea, since they were too young to witness whatever was going on in that room.

They had set up the Champions in the same area, and so many Healers crowded the room, there was no space for the families. Though there were dividers, Hermione had an excellent view of what was happening with each of them. It was chilling to witness the curses taking hold of Cedric and Harry, they were the ones needing the most care.

Two Healers stepped away from Viktor to go assist Fleur. The hedge vines seemed to keep sprouting around her the more they cut them away. Like a hydra. Cut off one vine, two more take its place.

“Hey!” said a Healer, noticing them. “Out! No one is allowed in—”

They were interrupted as Cedric released a blood-curdling scream. The Healers helping him backed away immediately as he writhed in his bed. The scream transformed into a howl. Fur sprouted from his skin, his face elongated.

“WEREWOLF!” a wizard screamed, running from the room.

Hana took his place producing a potion bottle from her bag. She poured it down Cedric’s throat and clamped his jaws closed with her hands forcing him to swallow it. He kicked and tried to scratch at her, but his right arm refused to function and a brave witch with white hair grabbed onto his left.

Cedric the Werewolf stopped kicking and laid on his side whimpering. Hana looked up at the terrified wizards and witches.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll save him if you’re too scared to. Hermione, you won’t want to witness this.”

“I’ll help,” said the white witch.

“Hold on,” said Mr. Krum angrily. “I will not have werewolf in same room as my son!”

“He’s sedated!” Hana snapped. “And he will be until sunrise which is in four hours. Hermy, go wait in the lobby with your mom and dads.”

“But—”

“Now!”

Roger and Beatrice guided Hermione away from the scene and back to the lobby. Manuia was distracting Gabby with a tale about Maui, demigod of the wind and sea.

Eventually, only one parent for each child was allowed in the room while the Healers worked. Sirius stayed with Harry, Apolline sat with Fleur, Mrs. Krum with Viktor, and Basira for Cedric. Amos had disappeared, nowhere to be found.

Hermione wrung her hands, hating how helpless she felt. Powerless to do anything to help any of her friends. Cedric’s screams would haunt her dreams and she hated how some of the Healers weren’t willing to help once Cedric had transformed. She could see the fear and disgust in their eyes.

As everyone dozed in their chairs and the sun rose, Hermione decided to go check on Cedric. She wrote her whereabouts on a sticky note and stuck it to her papá’s chest, then crept down the hallway, straight to where her friends were.

Sirius, Basira, Apolline, and Mrs. Krum were nowhere to be found, perhaps they had gone up to the tearoom for coffee, chased out by Healers who needed to change wound dressings or administer potions.

Cedric was completely hidden by a divider and Hermione could see it was magicked to keep him in despite it being sunrise; Harry was ashen, his arms folded over his stomach, the only movement being the shuddering rise and fall of his chest; Fleur was covered with cuts and bruises from where the plants had gripped her too tightly, she was asleep, though not peacefully from the way she moaned softly and twitched her head. Viktor could not be seen behind his screen.

Voices came from the hall, she turned and through the wall saw the magical signatures of Sirius and Dumbledore. Judging by their tones it was urgent. Deciding her options, she hurried to Viktor’s side of the room and hid behind the bed. Viktor raised his head and looked at her, furrowing his brow. She held a finger to her lips and he nodded.

“It looks like Antonin Dolohov’s curse,” said Sirius. “Seemed he refined it and worsened the hemorrhaging, probably passed it on to Malfoy in Azkaban. I was scared I was going to lose Harry. Any sign of Bagman?”

“From what I hear, when Mr. Diggory told Miss Sanchez that Ludo Bagman had Imperiused young Mr. Krum he disappeared,” said Dumbledore. “Looking back on everything. I would be willing to bet all my possessions that he was the one who sent that cursed necklace to Miss Granger.”

That made sense. Hermione knew she talked to him before she received that necklace. The idea she had to get Harry out. She still, for the life of her, couldn’t remember what it was. It was moot now.

“I never would have thought Bagman would be a Death Eater,” said Sirius. “He was thick but not evil.”

“I think it was not willingly,” said Dumbledore. “It circles back to Miss Granger and her ability to see magic. Barty Crouch Jr. wouldn’t have been able to pose as Professor Moody, which I assume was his goal in the beginning. Ludo was in hefty debt with goblins, and Crouch Jr. has money. Perhaps Crouch bribed Ludo by paying off his debt in return for rigging the Tournament in Harry’s favor.”

“Thinking back on the Tasks, I can see that each one had something that tried to kidnap him,” Sirius murmured. “The Triwizard Cup becoming a Portkey was a last resort. I don’t think they were counting on Cedric showing up as well.”

“They were ready for me,” a hoarse voice whispered.

“Cedric, you’re awake,” said Sirius. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“We… we were in a graveyard… I was attacked by two of Fenrir Greyback’s followers. They made me watch Crouch perform this ritual on Harry… Bone of the father unwillingly taken… blood of an enemy… flesh willingly given… Cut off his hand… And then Voldemort… he’s back. I saw him. With me there… the werewolves performed their own ritual because of my father and… they planned on killing Harry and sending me back with his body. Then… then something strange happened…”

Hermione looked up at Viktor as Cedric whispered what had happened to him. His face was twisted with sadness and anger. She understood the feeling. Her heart broke hearing the recount.

“Those who have been killed by Voldemort must have come to help,” said Dumbledore.

“But I saw my mum,” said Cedric. “She wasn’t killed by Voldemort.”

“But you had family that was,” said Dumbledore. “I do not know the workings of the afterlife, but perhaps Belphoebe was able to come with the others.”

“We’ll have to put everyone on alert with Voldemort’s return,” said Sirius. “I’ll set up a safe place to protect Harry.”

“I’m afraid no one will believe of his return.”

“What do you mean?”

Dumbledore’s voice grew tight and angry. “Fudge had Crouch Kissed by dementors before we could get him to admit anything. The only proof we have is his missing limb, but I don’t think anyone will listen to reason.”

“They’ll pin this whole thing on Fenrir Greyback, won’t they?” said Sirius.

Hermione imagined Dumbledore nodding solemnly and resting his hands under his beard.

“We should discuss this further another time,” said Dumbledore. “Let these children rest for a little longer until they’re flocked by their visitors.”

“Cedric?” said Sirius. “Cedric, are you all right?”

No answer. Hermione felt a shudder of dread. She looked up and saw Fleur’s signature, Dumbledore’s, Sirius’s, Harry’s, and… oh, thank God, Cedric’s was there. Perhaps he had fallen asleep.

Wait… Hermione narrowed her eyes. She didn’t care if she revealed herself now. Dumbledore probably knew she was there anyway. She jumped to her feet and crossed the room, startling Sirius, but not the old wizard as she suspected. She tried to touch the curtains but was shocked. Why couldn’t she get in?

“Cedric,” she called. “Can you hear me? Cedric!”

Gritting her teeth, she placed her hands on the curtain and focused on grabbing the sheet of magic layering it. A painful buzzing ran over the length of her body, but she refused to let go. She twisted and it broke, flinging her back.

“Hermione, are you alright?” Sirius asked, helping her up.

“I’m fine,” she said, ripping back the curtain and gasping at the sight.

Cedric was still and looked absolutely exhausted. The scars on his face were covered with bandages and he had bandages stretching across both shoulders, but they were heaviest on his right. And then she realized that his right arm just stopped at his elbow. She remembered how mangled it looked when he and Harry came in. It must have gone too long without treatment. The worst part, however, was the chain wrapped around his throat, restraining him to the bed.

“Cedric,” she cried. “What have they done to you?!”

Sirius drew his wand and tapped the chain, the steel falling away and onto the floor with a clatter that woke Fleur, the woman crying out in fear.

Hermione couldn’t stop the tears from forming at seeing Cedric like this. It felt like her heart was splitting as she realized that he could’ve died. Hell, she didn’t know what he faced or how much he’d been neglected the past five hours.

What-ifs ran through her head as she sat on the bed and hovered her hands over him, too scared to hurt him with her touch.

“Who authorized this?” Hermione asked Sirius.

He shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know. I think they did it when Hana and Healer Chiara left and put up that ward so we couldn’t check.”

“That’s inhumane!” Hermione shrieked. “I thought St. Mungo’s supported S.A.M.B.! This doesn’t look like the work of a hospital that cares for werewolves!”

“Hermione, could you be any louder?” Harry mumbled.

“Harry!” Sirius cried, forgetting everything else as he hugged his godson. “You’re awake.”

Hermione jumped to her feet and ran out of the hall down to the lobby.

“They’ve all woken up,” she said, startling the families awake.

“Awake?” Beatrice repeated.

Hermione nodded. “You won’t believe this! They— they chained Cedric up like, like an animal!”

“They _what_?!” Hana shouted, jumping to her feet.

Once again, they stampeded down to the hospital room containing the champions.

“Ay, bomboncito,” said Esperanza rushing to Viktor’s side and kissing him. “Are you okay?”

Hana went to Cedric’s side and examined him since it appeared no one else had since she left. Hermione lingered close, looking over her shoulder until her stepmother told her sharply to step away. Manuia hugged both of his daughters tightly.

The room was chaos.

“QUIET!” Hana bellowed. When the noise silenced, she continued on pleasantly, “How about this? Everyone should go home or to their hotels and shower, eat, and rest for a few hours. Then, you will come in shifts to be with your child or boyfriend or whatever. Okay?”

“But—”

Hana gave Hermione a look and she closed her mouth.

“Apolline, Bastien, I know it’ll be a little crowded, but perhaps you’d like to stay at our house while you look for other arrangements?” Roger asked. “Have some breakfast and tea?”

“That would be nice, thank you,” said Apolline. “Come, Gabby.”

_“I don’t want to leave Fleur,”_ she said.

_“We’ll be back,”_ Apolline assured her and kissed her eldest daughter on the head.

“I’ll be back, Cedric,” said Hermione, caressing his cheek. “I promise.”

~o0o~

Cedric opened his eyes as soon as everyone left and Hana had made sure his injuries were redressed. The room was quiet and probably would be until the first shift started.

Everything hurt and his right arm felt weird. Tingly but not in a good way. A sticky poultice wrapped in gauze covered his face, arms, and his left leg. After he reached the front of the maze he couldn’t remember anything except flashes and feelings; anger followed by fuzzy relaxation. He thought he talked to Sirius and he was sure Hermione was calling his name, but she wasn’t anywhere now.

Lolling his head, he looked over and saw his friends in the other beds looking just as terrible. Fleur was curled up on her side and stroking her hair as she stared at nothing, Viktor was nervously picking at his bandages, and Harry was staring up at the ceiling.

“That fucking sucked, didn’t it?” he said.

“Cedric, you’re awake,” said Fleur, sitting up, grimacing in pain as she did.

“I agree that this, as you said, fucking sucks,” said Viktor, crossing his arms. “We should be halfway around the world on a beach.”

“We?” Cedric asked.

“Esperanza said her aunt and uncle have boat and a beach was sounding nice,” he said and looked at him. “So you know, you have my full support.”

“Mine too,” said Fleur.

“And me,” Harry croaked.

Cedric pursed his lips. He had hoped that was just a nightmare but it seemed to be true. He was a werewolf. He wasn’t sure what his reaction would be it just… it didn’t feel real. He didn’t feel different. Like… something gross was coursing through his veins. If he weren’t in so much pain he would probably feel normal.

Urgh! His arm itched so bad! He reached to scratch it but his hand collided with his bed. What? He tried to raise his arm to look at it but didn’t see anything. Looking down at his shoulder, all he saw was his bicep, but nothing below the elbow, that section was wrapped up in gauze.

There were many reactions a person could have to realizing they lost a limb. Rage, denial, grief. Cedric? He flipped.

“MY ARM IS GONE!” he screamed.

_“WHAT?!”_ Fleur shrieked.

“How did that happen?” Viktor asked, alarmed.

“Barty Crouch is what happened!”

What else was gone? Cedric pulled up his blanket to check his legs and feet. Two of each, though his left leg was swollen and purple from the Chimera. Well, there was that. Cedric frowned. He was still positive. Guess fake it til you make it really worked.

“Hello, Champions!” said an overly cheerful voice.

Speaking of fake.

Minister Fudge entered the room along with Percy Weasley and a woman who was probably Ludo Bagman’s replacement. She was carrying a large, velvet bag and the Triwizard Cup.

The teens glared at him. Cedric wished Hermione was there to intimidate.

“Now, I know things didn’t quite go according to plan with the Tournament,” said Fudge. “And I had hoped to make this an official ceremony, but I hear that most of you will be going out of town, so I will just announce the winner here and Miss Marpole will present the winner with the prizes.

“Now, the winner of the Triwizard Tournament is you Harry,” said Fudge. “Congratulations!”

Miss Marpole held out the prizes to Harry.

“What about Cedric?” Harry asked. “I think he deserves to be the winner. I didn’t even want to be in this stupid Tournament!”

“Ah, yes, well,” Fudge tugged at his collar. “Cedric received help for several of the obstacles by teaming up with Mr. Krum and the rules stated that you had to do this on your own, which, er, disqualifies him.”

Cedric caught Fudge’s eye.

“Well that’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard,” he snapped. “The only reason why I’m not the winner is because I’m a werewolf and I announced the fact that Voldemort returned!”

“Voldemort did not return!” said Fudge sharply.

“You must have been hallucinating,” Percy added, narrowing his eyes. “This was all the work of Fenrir Greyback.”

“No, it was Voldemort,” said Harry. “I saw him!”

Miss Marpole held back the prizes and looked at Fudge.

“I’m sure you might’ve thought that,” he said condescendingly. “But you have been through a very difficult time, Mr. Potter. Now, we must be off. Congratulations on your Victory!”

Cedric seethed.

“Well, isn’t this just _perfect_ ,” he growled.

“Here, Cedric, I don’t want it,” said Harry.

“But taking an award that was given to you wouldn’t be _fair_ now would it,” said Cedric bitterly. “Because _I_ got disqualified for not wanting to _die_.”

“But I don’t need this money,” said Harry. “Take it.”

“Maybe when Rita Skeeter finally shows up she can make it into a headline,” he replied. “Werewolf Snatches Winnings From Boy-Who-Lived-Twice!”

“Well then, what should I do with it?” Harry demanded.

“Give it to Fred and George,” Cedric huffed. “Bagman still cheated them out of their winnings.”

“Okay, fine.”

Cedric leaned back against his pillow and looked down at his arm. What the hell was he going to do? No way would his dad buy him a prosthetic. They were too expensive. He couldn’t tend to a farm with only one arm… At least it wasn’t his wand arm, but he couldn’t tend to farm animals with magic. He tried it once and spent all day and half the night wrangling the animals back to the barn. Mel held it against him until he died.

If he didn’t have a forearm, then how come it hurt so much?

Nobody really had anything to say. He could feel the lingering anxiety. Anytime there was an odd sound, a scream from a fellow patient, or those shadows coming down the hallway, they jumped and scrambled for wands that weren’t there.

Healers checked on them and went, though Cedric could feel their wariness around him, as if he were going to bite them.

Once they had left, Esperanza and Hermione walked in carrying trays filled with hot beverages and bags of pastries. They didn’t pretend to be cheery which Cedric was grateful for.

“We brought sustenance,” said Hermione. “Herbal tea with honey for Viktor, cappuccino for Fleur, hot chocolate for Harry, and coffee with milk and lots of sugar for Cedric.”

“We bought an assortment of pastries, too,” said Esperanza. “We weren’t sure what you’d be hungry for. We’ve got croissants, donuts, and danishes.”

“I’ll take a danish,” said Fleur. “Cream cheese.”

“Not worried about your figure?” Hermione teased as Esperanza gave the pastry to her on a napkin.

“I will deal with it later,” she muttered, then perked up as a thought entered her head. “What do you know about Bill Weasley?”

“Bill?” said Hermione, not surprised. “Oh, he’s about the same age as my cousin Cecilia. She’s the one who gave him the dragon earring.”

“I see…” said Fleur tightly.

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Esperanza. “Cecilia would be way more interested in you than Bill.”

Fleur relaxed and smiled.

“Right,” said Hermione. “Bill is a Curse-Breaker and he’s really nice. He tried to teach me how to ride a broom when I found out I was a witch but I fell on my face.”

“You should know that he was checking you out, Fleur,” said Cedric. He saw the interest in Bill’s eyes. “And not because you’re a veela.”

“Really?” said Fleur.

“He works at Gringotts bank,” said Hermione.

“And his favorite color is purple,” said Cedric.

“Any particular shade?” Fleur asked.

“He’s a bloke,” said Cedric cracking a grin. “Most blokes can’t distinguish plum from eggplant.”

“And you can?”

“I have a lot of friends who are girls,” he replied. “I made it my business to know, because ‘they both look nice’ is not an appropriate response.”

Hermione turned her attention to him which he’d been dreading. Sadness at his condition and rage at the people who made him like that flashed in her eyes. He also saw her anger that he’d been chained up like a rabid dog. However, he didn’t see pity and he didn’t see disgust of any kind even when she saw his arm, or lack thereof. Instead, she was already coming up with ways to help him, research she needed to do to help him.

“Chocolate croissant?” she asked, holding it out to him.

He looked at the croissant, at his left hand which was holding the coffee cup, then at his residual limb, and back at Hermione.

“Uhh…” she thought and then she became embarrassed.

Oh.

“You don’t have to feed me,” he said. “I’ll just trade you.”

“Thank you,” she said, trading him. Though she was awkward about that, she still pressed her forehead against his as gently as she could. It stung a little, but he didn’t show it.

“Okay,” she continued, sitting down. “So, the current plan is to get you and Viktor well enough for travel. We’ll drop Zaza and Vik off at D.R. and then you, me, my sister, and our parents are going to Hawaii. I invited your grandmother to join us, but she said she’s going back to Algeria after she makes sure the farm is taken care of. Sound good?”

“Uh…”

She noticed the Triwizard Cup on the floor and picked it up. “Oh, they brought this? Hm… I would have thought it’d be shinier. It looks like they dug it out of the Room of Things.”

“Get rid of it,” said Cedric before he could stop himself.

“What?” she looked confused. “Don’t you want to shove this in Amos’s face and be like ‘Ha!’? I thought—”

“It’s not mine,” he said. “They deemed Harry the winner.”

“Oh, I think not!” she said, standing up.

Cedric dropped his croissant in his lap and grabbed her hand.

“Intimidate the Minister of Magic another day,” he said. “Part of it is because I created panic about Voldemort returning when really it was all a hallucination to cover up the works of Fenrir Greyback.”

“That’s stupid,” said Hermione. “What about that Death Eater you dragged back with you?”

“Kissed.”

Hermione’s anger came off her like heat from an oven. When she graduated, she would be a force to be reckoned with in the Ministry. He hoped he could be there to see it if he wasn’t completely ostracized from society.

Oh, God, everyone was going to hate him now. He must’ve looked like a fool in that maze. He was going to be a laughing stock.

“Oyé.”

Cedric blinked and realized Hermione was snapping her fingers in his face.

“Hey,” she said warningly. “Don’t spiral.”

He blinked and saw that the trophy was still in her hands. She looked at it and stuffed it away in her bag fully intending to chunk it in a dumpster for him. He was glad she wasn’t going to try and keep it safe thinking he might want it later. The only award he cared about right now was his Order of Merlin.

“Before we go,” he said. “I do want to take care of a few things at home. As long as jidha is there, then I should be okay.”

“I’ll go with you,” she said.

“No! Er— no… no thanks. I’m fine,” he said. “Besides, it’ll probably be a week before I’m released.”

“Morning, kids,” said Manuia, entering the room. “Your parents will be here soon, there’s arguments bubbling up about who will take first shift, so I just left. Viktor, I think yours are going to try and bring you back to Bulgaria for your recovery.”

“That might be better,” he said reluctantly. “We have family physician and Bulgarian Quidditch Team has physical therapist for injuries.”

“Mm… that was the original plan,” said Esperanza. “Bulgaria first, then D.R. for my sisters’ quinceañera.”

A Healer entered to administer a potion for Harry.

Manuia looked at all of them and noticed their anxiety and how upset all of them were. He smiled kindly and set a chair down where they all could see him.

“How about a story?” he said.

“Aren’t we a little old for stories?” said Fleur.

“You’re never too old for stories,” said Esperanza, settling beside Viktor. “Is this okay?”

He nodded and rested his head against her.

Hermione studied Cedric to gauge if she could do the same without hurting him, but decided against it and sat in a chair with her hand resting on his uninjured leg.

“Herminia, any requests?” he asked.

“Tell the one about the fire goddess, Pele, and her little sister,” said Hermione.

“You got it.”

Within minutes, all of them were captured by the tale and managed to keep their minds off the night before. At least… until their parents returned to fuss over them, which only reminded them and made them painfully aware of their injuries again.


	2. Cedric's Life Gets Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cedric learns first hand that life can get worse. So much worse. Still, he hasn't hit rock bottom... yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well… somebody didn’t learn their lesson from Working Title and is posting when the story isn’t even complete, because somebody has no self-control and is desperate for attention!

Viktor was the first to be released from the hospital. Esperanza had a tearful goodbye with Hermione, Amalea, Hana, and Manuia but promised she’d see them in July. At least… she would see Hermione.

Fleur was next, off to France, but something told Cedric it wouldn’t be for long.

Before they left, she sat down on the edge of his bed, her parents behind her.

“How long have you known about…” Apolline glanced at the eavesdropping Healers and switched to French.  _ “About our relationship with your mother?” _

_ “For a long time,” _ he replied.  _ “I don’t even remember when I knew. When my father started ignoring us, I know she often thought about returning to France but… it would mean leaving behind her family home.” _ He chuckled wryly.  _ “Guess that’s moot now. _ It’s going under anyway and there’s no way I can take care of it anymore… Not that you should worry about that, I’m just talking to myself.”

“Well, you’re always welcome to visit us in France,” said Bastien.

_ “Isn’t he a werewolf?” _ said Gabby.  _ “Everyone says that all werewolves are evil. I don’t—” _

_ “Hush, Gabby,” _ scolded Apolline.

Fleur kissed Cedric on the cheek and left with her family.

Harry left soon after to go to a safer location. Hermione had arrived as they were leaving and spoke to Sirius before entering the room to be with Cedric.

“So, any news on when you’ll be able to get a prosthetic?” she asked.

“Prosthetics cost money,” he said glumly. “It’s going to take most, if not all, of my C.D. Products—my business name—profits to pay for a good one.”

“Then don’t get a good one,” said Hermione. “Just get something that’s functional and we’ll ask my cousin Noa to make it better.”

Chiara—the nice Healer—walked into the room pushing a cart. She was already apologetic and seemed to be the only person here unafraid of Cedric.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Diggory,” she said. “So, we have a variety of low-cost prosthetics. They have simple grab-and-release but can’t do much more than that. Since it’s a simple model you can wear it out in public around Muggles since they have similar things.”

“How much?” Cedric asked.

“Twenty galleons, not including your hospital bills.”

Cedric wracked his brain trying to figure out how much he had saved. Surely he had enough in his vault. At least a hundred galleons. Maybe one-fifty.

“Now, we’ll just fit you,” she said, lifting one up. “It adjusts to your stump.”

“Residual limb,” Hermione corrected crossly.

“Yes, of course.”

Cedric held out his arm, still feeling sick anytime he looked at it. He glanced at Hermione who wasn’t sick or disgusted when she saw it. Just angry that it happened. Chiara held up a prosthetic and pushed it onto his limb.

“Ow!” he cried, his scars screaming with pain as the cold metal connected.

“I'm sorry, it will hurt a bit,” said Chiara. “It'll get easier as the scar tissue heals. Now, don’t get it wet and, if it needs to be cleaned, wipe it down with a damp cloth. I wouldn’t recommend using it to cast magic and writing will be a bit tricky. Go on, try it.”

Swallowing back the pain, Cedric focused on making the hand open. It pushed back.

“Guess not,” said Chiara. “Let’s try another.”

It took four tries for him to find one that worked and it was significantly shorter. Dajuan would probably call  _ him _ Clock.

“It’s fine,” said Cedric, studying the basic fingers, they didn’t even look realistic. “For now.”

“Alright,” she said, putting the rest away. “You can be discharged in a few hours should you wish."

“Can’t afford not to,” he muttered.

Chiara rested her hand on his. "If you need someone to talk to, I'll be here."

"Thank you, Chiara."

Hermione ran her fingers through his hair. Basically the only place she could touch him that didn’t hurt.

“I need to go to the farm first,” he said. “Can I borrow your purse to pack things?”

“Yes, of course,” she said.

“What did you do with the Cup?” he asked.

“Sold it to a pawn shop,” she said, removing the money from her pocket. “I told them it was a vase from the 1800s and that it glowed due to a special paint that was no longer in production due to its makeup being so rare.”

“Brilliant,” he said, accepting the note she gave him. “Where’s my wand?”

She faltered and avoided looking at him.

“Mimi… where’s my wand…?” he asked.

“Well, um, I didn’t see exactly what happened to it, but…”

“Where’s my wand?” he asked again.

Avoiding looking at him, she dug into her bag and brought out his wand case.

“When did you get that?” he asked.

“Dumbledore brought your things to my house,” she said. “Packed by Professor Sprout. Um… I put your wand inside but…”

Cedric took it and fumbled with trying to open it. It hurt to rotate his prosthetic, so he just set the case on his lap and opened it. Resting inside was what was left of his wand and the handle so lovingly carved for him. It had completely splintered and the core burned up. He touched it lightly, the pieces fell apart even further.

Tears filled his eyes, but he blinked them back. Now was not the time to lose it. He could swallow back any emotion. He was the poster-boy of ‘Grin and Bear It’ he could make it through this. He refused to break down in public again.

Hermione stayed with him while he was discharged and signed out.

“Right,” said the Greeter witch, looking at Cedric in a way that made Hermione seethe beside him. “When it comes time for a refill on your Wolfsbane potions, we will send you a notice and you, or a representative, will need to come and pick them up. You’ll sign off with the witch in charge of that. Chiara."

“Okay,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Mmhm.”

Since they couldn’t apparate, they made use of the connecting floo network and took it to Rosehill Manor where Cedric was immediately hugged by Tavi.

“Cedric!” she cried. “Tavi knew you would be home! Tavi missed you so much! Where are your things? Tavi will unpack them right now.”

“I- I’m sorry, Tavi,” said Cedric. “I’m not staying.”

Tavi’s ears fell with her face.

“Where are you going?” she asked, switching back to proper English rather than continuing her Elf-dialect.

“I’m staying with Hermione,” he said. “Where is jidha? Hasn’t she explained any of this to you?”

“Tavi— I have not spoken to her much,” she said. “I know she is taking over Mistress’s office for the past week. Master Diggory has not been happy either. Always muttering and being unkind.”

Cedric scowled. His father had never been kind to Tavi. Always treating her like a slave rather than the loving nanny she’d always been. Maybe he should see about getting her used to the idea of freedom, along with choosing where to work. Of course,  _ he _ couldn’t free her. Could he?

“We’re just here to pack some things up,” said Cedric. “Take care of loose ends. See… I can’t take care of the farm anymore.” He held up his prosthetic and Tavi shrieked with despair.

“Oh, Cedric!” she cried. “What have they done to you? Do not worry! Tavi will be taking care of you! Tavi has always taken care of Cedric.”

“Tavi, calm down,” he said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “While I take care of the animals, will you help Hermione put Mum’s favorite things in her bag to take to the family vault?”

“Of course,” she said. “Come along, Miss Hermione.”

Cedric went through the house and out to the barn, stuffing his feet into a pair of work boots. If the farm was being sold then he needed to make sure that those who needed the wool, milk, and eggs still got a final supply with enough to make arrangements for a new supplier.

It was slow going but he managed to tie his favorite cow Daisy, her best friend, Trixie, and two sheep to Jigsy and it took another frustrating half hour for him to get the saddle on. Daffodil wouldn’t be able to make the ride now, but she still looked miffed at this and snorted, stomping her hoof as if to say, “How dare you?”

“You’re too old, Daffodil,” he said. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I promise, we’ll go for a short walk before I go. Okay?”

She tossed her golden head and turned her butt towards him.

“Classy,” he said, mounting Jigsy. “Come on, Jig. Let’s go pay the Weasleys a visit.”

The day was hot and dry with the promise of a drought. Perhaps it was a good thing they were selling now before it was too late and nobody would buy it. Sweat poured down his face, leaving him feeling as if he’d jumped into the pond and gotten dressed without drying off.

When he reached the gate to the Burrow, Cedric dismounted his horse and walked up to the door. The chatter inside halted when Daisy lowed and shook her head, ringing the bell around her neck. Cedric knocked quietly and Mrs. Weasley answered looking rather surprised and… wary.

Of course, the Weasleys didn't like werewolves either. They were pureblood, too. Still, he wasn't going to break his resolve.

"I thought you should know that the farm is being sold since I can’t stay," he said. "I brought you my best cows and two sheep. They're all rather young, so they should provide you with enough for a while. I already sheared the sheep, so the wool is on Daisy's back."

"Thank you, Cedric," said Mrs. Weasley, blinking with surprise. "That is very kind of you."

"What do you mean you can’t stay?" Ginny asked, squeezing beside her mother. “What happened?”

Cedric started a little when Mrs. Weasley held an arm out as if he would go rabid and attack the youngest Weasley.

"It doesn’t matter," he replied. "Anyway, if you keep the cows, just move them between fields every so often, so they doesn't get bored. And they have to be milked twice a day or it could hurt them. I gave you both because cows do better if they have a friend. If you sell them or the sheep, keep the money. I don't care. I'll… I'll just tie them to your fence."

He did as he said he would and left, taking Jigsy to a near gallop to get back to his place.

When he entered the house, his father was there waiting for him looking angry.

“So, you’re back,” he said.

“Yes,” Cedric replied flatly. “You could have visited you know. Why didn’t you visit? Aren’t you proud that your son went through such lengths for you?”

“Proud?” Amos scoffed. “How could I be proud. My only son is a crippled werewolf!”

“And whose fault is that?!” Cedric snapped. “If you had just said you were proud of me for my Order of Merlin, then I wouldn’t have felt the need to enter that stupid Tournament! If you hadn’t been so outspoken about werewolves, then I wouldn’t have been transformed into one! Have you changed your mind yet now that your  _ only son _ is a werewolf?”

“You know?” said Amos. “I’m not even sure you are my son! I know everything about France. I know that she married me so she could keep the farm. I also know that she visited Paris and, next thing I know, she's pregnant with you."

"How can you say that?" Cedric growled. "She was loyal! If she didn't care about you then— then— well, she wouldn't have stayed. I  _ am _ your son!"

"As far as I'm concerned, I no longer have a son," said Amos coldly as he drew his wand. "If you aren't out of this house in half-an-hour…”

“It’s  _ my _ house!” Cedric shouted, feeling as if he were punched in the gut. “ _ You _ get out!  _ I _ get to sell it with jidha!  _ I _ get to keep the money. You get nothing!  _ You _ never even cared about this place so why should you get to take the profits.”

Amos’s mind went red and one intrusive thought flashed in his mind. Acting on it, he turned to the house, expression full of rage and hate and waved his wand.

_ “Incendio!” _

Flames shot out of his wand and broke through the windows, lighting up immediately.

“Hermione!” Cedric shouted, racing into the house. "Teita! Tavi!"

The flames moved faster than they should, climbing up the walls and overtaking the furniture. They’d consume something that would make them bigger. He hurried through the doors before he could get trapped and skidded through a stop in the foyer looking around for them.

“Hermione! Tavi! Get to the floo! Hurry!”

“Cedric?” Her voice came from upstairs. “Cedric, what’s going on? What’s that smell?”

Smoke filled the room and he could see a glow where the fire was coming up next, from the dining room, the parlor, and coming around to the office.

“Fire!” he shouted, racing up the stairs. “Fire! We have to go!”

He bumped into Hermione and Tavi outside his mum’s library.

“What do you mean fire?!” she asked.

“I mean, that the house is on fire and we have to go!”

The shock caused Hermione to not commute the danger of the situation. Guilt that she had browsed through the items in interest rather than just packing them away immediately.

“But… your mum’s things…”

“Just leave them!” he said, taking her hand and racing towards the stairs.

“Wait!” said Tavi. “I have to grab something.”

“Tavi, there’s no time!” he said. “We have to leave! Get out of here! Now!”

“In a moment!” she said, apparating.

Cedric hurried down the stairs with Hermione towards the floo. The rooms were heavy with smoke causing both teenagers to cough. Cedric’s lungs and eyes burned. He flung open the doors to the reception room and found their path blocked.

“Out the front?” Hermione cried, grabbing onto his hand.

A horrible groan reached his ears and the ceiling collapsed from the way they came, blocking their path to the foyer. Hermione coughed and looked around wildly for a way out. The heat and the smoke was making her head fuzzy.

“Give me your wand!” Cedric shouted, feeling dizzy himself.

Hermione gave it to him, he pulled her in tight and apparated. He felt the both of them get sucked into a thin tube. If either of them got splinched, hopefully Hana had some dittany to help.

They landed in the reception room and lay there holding each other tight. Footsteps came up from the basement and Manuia entered the room.

“Oh, my God!” he shouted, hurrying to their sides. “Hermy, Cedric, what happened?”

Hermione coughed and sat up.

“Papá,” she rasped. “There was a fire… at Cedric’s house. I… I don’t know how it happened.”

Cedric couldn’t sit up. Jidha must not have been home, but where was Tavi? He told her to get somewhere safe. Did she disobey and get hurt trying to retrieve the item that was so important? His house was gone, most if not all of his mother’s treasured possessions were gone, his father disowned him, people now thought he was a monster due to something he had no control over, and he was missing an arm. His stress became too much and the dam broke.

Curling up, he began to cry, despair taking over any positive thoughts he might’ve tried to grasp onto.

Hermione rested a hand on his shoulder, but he jerked away, finally understanding why she couldn’t be touched when she was upset. If he wasn’t left alone, he might freak, lashing out to whoever was closest.

She stepped away, holding her hands up.

“Go clean up, precious,” said Manuia. “Amalea and Hana are at the grocery store but I’ll let them know what happened.”

“If he falls asleep, put him in my room,” said Hermione. “I can rest elsewhere.”

When Hermione went upstairs, Manuia entered the kitchen. Cedric closed his eyes, unable to stop his sobs. His lungs hurt, his heart hurt even more, and he just couldn’t stop the spiral of bad thoughts.

Manuia sat down on the floor next to him but didn’t make any contact. Cedric couldn’t detect anything except patience and calm. He reached out for it, grasping on and hoping he could use some of it. Ground himself.

Belle came into the room and curled up by her owner, purring to comfort him. At least she was here with Hermione’s family.

After crying for who knew how long, Cedric released a shuddering sigh. Hermione had passed through a couple times, but eventually went up to her room. Manuia patted his head.

“Here,” he said. “Sit up. Drink some water.”

Cedric sipped the water, wincing at the pain swallowing brought. Manuia wrung out a damp cloth over a bowl of water and began wiping Cedric’s face.

“Are you okay to tell me what happened?” he asked.

“I… I don’t know,” said Cedric, feeling fresh tears bubbling up.

“That’s fine then. How about a hug?”

Cedric nodded. Manuia wrapped an arm around him and continued pushing calm and patience towards him. It occurred to Cedric that Hermione told her dad of his legilimency which is probably why he was thinking loudly.

“My father disowned me,” he said at last.

“No!” Manuia gasped.

“Because I’m a werewolf,” he said.

“Ugh, it’s like those people who wish a gay child on homophobic parents,” Manuia scoffed. “It’s a punishment for the gay child and pushes the notion that having a gay child is a punishment!”

Cedric sniffled and scrubbed his cheek. He couldn't imagine what his dad would say if he knew Cedric fancied both men and women. Manuia realized he got off on a tangent and cleared his throat.

“Listen,” he said. “As the saying goes, the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. You have family in Herminia and the Grangers, the Sanchezes will happily accept you, and I think you’re cool enough to be part of my family, too. You have a group of people behind you.”

“But… my lycanthropy.”

“Do you really think a Sanchez cares about a little once-a-month issue?” he said. “Don’t be a lolo. And while you’re surrounded by love, Amos is going to grow old into a sad and lonely man and then, when you achieve happiness again and, maybe, have a family started yourself, he’ll come back. Beg for your forgiveness and you know what you do then?”

“Forgive and forget?” Cedric muttered, the thought pissing him off.

“No,” he replied. “Forgiving someone who abused you is overrated. You stand your ground and tell him, ‘no. I don’t forgive you,’ and then you move on with your life.”

Cedric blinked, not expecting that answer.

“I don’t have to forgive?”

“Nope,” Manuia popped the ‘p,’ “Forgiveness should happen because you mean it, not because you feel obligated. Forgiveness where it isn’t deserved is bullshit.”

“Huh…”

Hermione came down the stairs dressed in shorts and a t-shirt.

“I need to go out,” she said.

“Where are you going?” Manuia asked.

“I have some business I meant to attend to a week ago,” she replied.

He raised an eyebrow. “Is this business dangerous?”

“No.” She dug into her purse and removed a plastic container containing a bug and a miniature ecosystem. “Just some blackmail. I’m going to a public place to settle this matter.”

“Hermy, did you transfigure a person into a bug?” Manuia asked sternly.

“No, Papá,” she said. “If I were to transfigure someone it would be a hamster. No, it’s Rita Skeeter. She’s an animagus and I kept her in this container for months."

“Ah, I see,” he said. Cedric could see that Manuia wanted to pitch a fit about this, but his hatred for the woman outweighed the questionable conduct of her revenge. “Just be home before dinner.”

Hermione came over and kissed her papá’s head and her boyfriend’s cheek.

“See you soon,” she said and left.

“I’m going to go shower,” said Cedric.

“Your trunk is in the office,” said Manuia. “I’ll whip you up some food.”

“Thanks, Manny.”

Once he finally felt clean, he awkwardly dressed and went downstairs, leaving his arm on the bathroom counter. A fragrant and sweet scent filled the downstairs making Cedric inhale deeply. The familiar sound of boiling oil came from the kitchen along with the voices of Hermione’s family. They were all sitting around the table, though Amalea was hanging over her father’s arm, looking at what he was cooking.

“Hello, Cedric,” said Beatrice, taking notice of the boy. She stood up and gave him a hug before sitting him down.

“First batch of andagi is ready,” said Manuia, placing a wooden bowl filled with round donut-like pastries on the table. He put a couple on a plate and gave it to Cedric. “Eat up.”

Cedric lifted it and took a bite. The outside was crispy but the inside was soft. He closed his eyes and chewed slowly.

“Mmm.”

Manuia patted his shoulder and went back to the stove to make the rest so he could clear out the kitchen for dinner to be made.

“They’re good with powdered sugar, cinnamon, or chocolate,” he said. “But we didn’t have any of that.”

“These are perfect,” said Cedric, taking another bite.

~o0o~

Hermione stopped at a Costa and entered, standing in the queue to order her drink. The place was crowded enough that it would protect her from Skeeter, but not too crowded that she wouldn’t be able to have this meeting. She ordered two cappuccinos and a sandwich, sat down at a table in the corner, and opened the container.

“Run and I leak your secret,” she said, placing it on the ground.

Skeeter returned to her normal self under the table and sat in her chair stretching out and cracking a crick in her neck. She was rumpled, but otherwise looked fine. One person did a double-take wondering when a lady in a hot pink suit and blonde beehive entered.

The barista, who had witnessed this tacky lady transformed into a bug, placed their cappuccinos on the table. She didn’t care about the obvious magic before her because it was five minutes until two hours before her shift was done and she could go home. Being a barista she saw a lot of weird stuff and dealt with stupid people. The girl with the bug lady had thanked her and put a £5 note in the tip jar, so she wasn’t going to say a word.

Skeeter glared at Hermione and crossed her arms.

"Suppose you think you're clever," she said.

"That seems to be the general consensus," Hermione replied, breezily sliding a contract over to Skeeter. "These are my terms for your release. I won't tell the aurors about your little secret, you will disappear for a bit and wait for a letter from me or Cedric to write asking for an article of the topic of my choice. You’ll be stuck writing fashion columns for a while. I know you need to work, I'm not a monster."

She’d spent several days perfecting the contract and biding Skeeter to do her bidding. Since she was leaving she would entrust the contract to Cedric when he went to school, but for now, it would remain in her safe in her bedroom.

_ I, _____, hereby agree that I will not write any articles, pamphlets, books, or any other published material about the personal lives of people, celebrities or otherwise, for two years starting today June 20th, 1995. Failure to do so will result in my outing as a Blue Beetle Animagus to the authorities. The exception to this rule is one designated interview by the choice of the holder of this contract. _

She already signed it as witness and placed several enchantments on it that would bind Skeeter to follow it lest she suffer consequences.

"You can't do this to me," said Rita, baring her yellow teeth.

"I can and I will. I'm very tenacious you know."

“Why do you want an article from me?”

"You are very influential, Skeeter,” said Hermione. “Besides, I think a couple years of living off of beans and rice is better than four months in Azkaban and a 100 galleon fine, yes? Not to mention  _ everyone _ you ever wrote an article about will know that you had spied on them."

Skeeter paled considerably and Hermione knew she caught the beetle in her web.

"Why aren't you in Slytherin?" Skeeter asked, picking up the contract and examining it. "You'd be a rather good one."

"My parents are No-Majs," said Hermione simply. "Doesn't matter that both of my grandmothers have magic, it still doesn't make me a half-blood."

Skeeter harrumphed and took the pen from Hermione, scrawling out her name and initials in the designated areas. She threw the pen down and sipped the cappuccino. Hermione pushed the sandwich over to her which Skeeter scarfed down having eaten nothing but leaves, larvae, and bits of fruit for the past several months.

“By the way,” said Hermione. “Here’s what you missed. A man was posing as Barty Crouch Sr. and he tried to kill me and infiltrate the school. The  _ real  _ Barty Crouch was murdered by the imposter whom, I believe, was his son, Barty Crouch Jr. It turns out Junior didn’t really die in Azkaban. Cedric Diggory beat Viktor Krum in Quidditch, but Viktor won in a game called Seeker’s Bombardment. They were equals in a duel, however. All four Champions got seriously injured and an ancient ritual was formed on Cedric turning him into a werewolf. Both he and Harry Potter witnessed Voldemort returning and Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch Jr. orchestrated the entire thing. What else… oh! Lucius Malfoy is out of Azkaban and, regarding this letter I received from Daphne, Draco is freaking out about it and not in a good way.”

Skeeter’s jaw dropped. All of this juicy information and she wasn’t allowed to cook any of it.

“I have to go,” said Hermione. “My boyfriend is living with me now because his father disowned him and burned down their house.”

Skeeter growled as Hermione waltzed out of the café.

Feeling smug, she headed home and played with the locket Cedric gave her while she was on the Tube. Gasping a little when it gave away, she was worried she broke it, until it kept on turning and became a heart. Neat! She slid it open and saw a picture of Cedric.

Picture-Cedric opened his eyes and brightened up when he saw her, breaking into a wide grin. Aww, this was so sweet! She could see why he didn’t show her the secret to the locket when he gave it to her, though. He would have basically been declaring his affections with a bullhorn. Smiling, she touched the picture lightly, Cedric leaning into her.

“Interesting locket there, missy.”

Hermione looked up at a man and said nothing, closing up the locket and letting it drop back to her chest. She would have to free Cedric and put a non-semi-sentient one in its place.

“Boyfriend give it to you?” the man pressed.

Pursing her lips, Hermione opened her book and ignored him. He kept standing right in front of her even though there were three empty seats and wouldn’t stop talking to her.

“Come on, love, where you going?” he asked, leaning closer. “I’d be happy to walk you home.”

Uncomfortable to the point of tears, she removed the emergency medallion from her purse and tapped it against the page in her book.

_ S.O.S. O.N. T.U.B.E. S.E.N.D. H.E.L.P. K.I.N.G. C.R.O.S.S. _

“That’s a nice coin,” he said. “Was it a gift?”

She got up, intending to get off at that stop and wait for Hana and get back on the next one.

“Going already?” said the man, already holding his arms out. “At least give me a hug before you go.”

Hermione took a deep breath and screamed before breaking out into tears. Heads snapped towards the creepy man.

“Oh, shit, stop crying!” he said. “Stop it!”

He grabbed onto her arm so Hermione screamed louder.

The doors opened and people filed out to King’s Cross Pancras. Cedric raced onto the platform and punched the creepy guy square in the jaw.

“Back away from my girlfriend!” he shouted. “I may only have one arm but I’ll kick your ass all the way to the next stop if you don’t beat it!”

Creepy Guy scrambled off the tube just before the doors closed. Cedric stumbled and grabbed onto a nearby pole as the tube lurched forward. Hermione swiped her tears from her eyes and hugged him tightly, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I got your… page.”

“Yeah,” she said, grabbing onto the pole as the train moved around a bend. “It’s nothing new, but I couldn’t handle three more stops with him, what if he followed me home?”

Cedric nodded and Hermione smiled.

“Did you see his face?” she said. “I think he peed his pants when you decked him.”

“Good to know a week in the hospital didn’t screw with my aim,” he replied, raising his arm. He glared down at it and tsked so Hermione hugged him again to distract him.

“I like the locket you gave me,” she said. “The picture inside is cute, too.”

“Ah, you figured it out?” he said, ears going red.

“Mmmhm,” she said. “If you’d like, Abuela would teach you more about jewelry making.”

“Um, I kinda had something  _ handy _ when I was making that,” he said.

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes at the pun.

“It’s just temporary,” she said. “Noa will make you a really good one.”

“Alright,” he said.

Hermione smiled and rested a hand on his cheek, gently running a thumb over a scar. He leaned into her touch, much like his picture did and her heart swelled. Almost losing him made her realize how much she would have regretted not kissing him enough, not hugging him enough, and not letting him know how much she cared enough. She stretched up to kiss him, but the tube slowed to a stop at Chalk Farm.

Sighing through her nose, she took his hand and exited the car with him.

“How did your meeting with Skeeter go?” he asked.

“She signed a contract stating she won’t write or publish any stories about people, celebrity or not, for the next two years,” said Hermione. “Unless I ask her to, anyway. And then I told her all that she missed while she was my captive. She was  _ so _ pissed.”

“I imagine so,” he said.

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder as they walked back. It was getting pretty muggy out and, while it wasn’t any cooler in Hawaii or D.R., at least they were by the water and that brought a pretty nice breeze.

“We’re leaving the day after tomorrow,” said Cedric. “Jidha called with the floo and we’re going to Gringotts tomorrow to settle some matters. She’s got a friend who will take the sheep and horses. Thankfully, the barn didn’t catch fire.”

“Any sign of Tavi?” Hermione asked.

He shook his head. “No.”

She hummed. “I know she’s fine. She’s probably… er… well, she’s fine.”

He already heard her thought. Tavi was probably bound to his ex-father and was not allowed to see him. She regretted the thought, but it was more difficult to stop your thought process than to just not say it.

“If you’d like,” she said. “We can take a trip to the mall tomorrow, get you some climate appropriate clothes.”

“My clothes are fine,” he said, letting go of her hand so she could get her keys.

“Love, you’ll burn up in those,” she said. “You at least need a couple pairs of shorts—”

“I don’t want new clothes!” he said sharply.

Hermione stepped away, holding up her hands in surrender. When they entered the house, he went into the back garden without a word to anyone else. Before she could follow, she was engulfed by her parents.

“Are you okay, love?” Beatrice asked. “What was the S.O.S.?”

“This creep on the Tube,” she said. “It’s not anything new, but I was scared he was going to follow me. Cedric punched him in the face.”

“He took my wand to apparate,” said Hana. “I’m going to go get it back.”

“Er— give him some space,” she said. “Something set him off. I’m a little tired myself, how soon will dinner be ready?”

“About an hour,” said Roger, running back into the kitchen. “I just started it.”

“Great, I’m going to take a rest,” said Hermione, pulling away from their fussing.

She jogged upstairs. went into the office-slash-Amalea’s room, and skimmed her dad's bookcase until she found what she was looking for. She removed the book from the shelf and went into her room, closing the door behind her, then opening it so that it wouldn't seem like she was mad or anything at Cedric’s outburst when he came inside. Frankly, it was a little unexpected and she didn't want to make things worse.

Stretching out on her bed, she rested her pillow on her stomach and propped the book up on that. She decided she was going to let Cedric sleep in her bed for the next two nights and she would just tough it out on the couch. He needed the comfort more than she did.

_ While there are many self-help books in dealing with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), it is equally important to have people in life who will understand and provide support. This book will assist you in learning the signs of PTSD, how to recognize when your loved one is on the verge of a panic attack, and how to help them not only come down from their attack, but to make it through everyday life. It's not easy to move on alone and while their pain and trauma won't fully go away, they can eventually learn to overcome their feelings of grief, despair, anger, hopelessness, and helplessness. _

By the time she got through Chapter 5:  _ Volatility and Anger _ , Cedric knocked on the door and poked his head in. Hermione quickly held the book against her chest and covered it with her pillow.

"Yes?"

"What are you reading?" he asked, diverging from his original train of thought.

"Just a book," she replied, sitting up. "Anyway, did you need something?"

"Oh… no. Not— I'm sorry for snapping at you.”

"It's all right," said Hermione, thinking about what she just read. "I mean… I would prefer it if you didn't, but I'm not upset or anything. You've had a tough few days… weeks… years."

“It hasn’t been easy for you either,” he said. “Anyway, um, dinner’s ready.”

“Cool.” She got up and tossed the book on her bed, Crookshanks and Belle cast her dirty looks for disrupting their nap.

Just a little bit longer in this cramped house and then they’d be in paradise.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just got out of a psychiatric facility so I’m posting a chapter to celebrate! We weren’t allowed to have electronics, so I’m a bit behind with Book 5 of this story.

Hermione woke up around six when Beatrice had to get up with Chibuzo. It was a regular occurrence that they would play for a few hours and then take a nap. Hermione went up to her room and moved quietly so she wouldn’t disturb Cedric. She quietly removed her workout clothes from her drawers and crept into the bathroom to change.

She snuck over to Cedric’s side to check on him. He was curled up tightly like a clenched fist. A low moan escaped from his lips.

“No…” he said, shifting uncomfortably.

“It’s okay,” said Hermione, resting her hand on his cheek. “You’re okay.”

He opened his eyes and looked up at her groggily before sinking back into his pillow and falling asleep a bit more peacefully. Hermione kissed his cheek lightly and headed out for her morning workout at the gym.

When she returned around nine, the house was asleep once more. A note on the fridge told her that Roger went in to the office to take care of an emergency visit as well as a few other things to prepare for their holiday.

Hermione mixed together a protein shake and sipped it through a straw. The phone rang, so she answered it, and sat on the counter.

“Granger’s residence, my I ask who is calling?” she asked pleasantly.

“Hermione?” It was Harry. “It’s Harry.”

“Hey, Harry,” she said. “It’s a little early for you, isn’t it?”

“Well, Ginny floo’d in this morning in a panic because Cedric’s house was burned down,” he replied. “Yesterday, he gave the Weasleys a few animals and talked about how he was going away, I think.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Hermione. “I know. He’s here with me and my family.”

“Is he okay?”

“As okay as a person can be if they lose nearly everything.”

“Yeah, dumb question.”

_Pop!_

"Good afternoon, Miss!" said Tavi cheerfully.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"Guest," she replied breezily. She watched Tavi happily sweep the kitchen with the green and white broom that was nestled between the refrigerator and food pantry.

“Was Cedric disowned?” Harry asked.

“Er… yes,” said Hermione.

“Thought so,” he said with a sigh. “Sirius thought so, too. Went into work early today so he could confront Mr. Diggory about it. I don’t see why being a werewolf should change him. He’s still Cedric.”

“Yes,” she replied.

Cedric stumbled down the stairs and swung around the bannister. Upon entering the kitchen, his eyes widened as he saw Tavi. He looked at Hermione and she just shrugged.

“Who are you talking to?” he asked.

She put a hand over the receiver. “It’s Harry.”

“Huh?” Harry asked.

“Oh, it’s Cedric,” she said. "He just woke up."

“Ah. Professor Lupin is here,” said Harry. “He wants to talk to Cedric.”

“Okay, sure,” she said and gave Cedric the receiver. “It’s for you.”

He held it up to his ear.

“Hi, Harry… Oh, Professor Lupin! …I’m as well as I can be.”

While he talked, Hermione went about putting together some breakfast for him. Meaning toaster waffles and sliced fruit.

“Professor Lupin wants to talk to you,” said Cedric.

She traded him the phone for her protein shake.

“Hello?”

“Now, more than ever, Cedric will need your support,” he said. “I think it’s great that you’re standing by him. I never doubted that you would, but he’s facing a long and difficult road ahead.”

Cedric absent-mindedly took a sip of her shake and gagged.

“Ugh, what is this?” he asked.

“Green stuff,” she replied. “I’ll keep that in mind Professor, I know how to manage a long and difficult road.”

“Alright,” said Professor Lupin. “Goodbye, Miss Granger.”

“Bye.” She spoke to Harry for another moment before hanging up. “Cedric. Elf.”

“Er— right,” he said and knelt down, grabbing onto Tavi’s broom. “Tavi, you’re okay! I’m so relieved. But what are you doing here?”

“I have decided to work for Master Cedric,” she said, digging under her collar and drawing out a S.A.M.B. pamphlet. “You believe that a House-Elf should have a choice in who she works for.”

The basement door opened and Manuia exited.

“Hermy, have you eaten breakfast yet— AUWÊ!” He stumbled back upon seeing Tavi. “What are you?”

It seemed he forgot seeing Winky that night at the World Cup. Then again, he was more occupied with other matters like wrangling in his ADHD child and then comforting his autistic child and her not-at-the-time boyfriend.

“I am Tavi, the House-Elf,” said Tavi, curtsying slightly. “May I be asking who you are?”

“Tavi, this is my Papá,” she said. “Papá, Tavi is Cedric’s House-Elf.”

“You have a slave?” said Manuia, snapping his head towards Cedric looking outraged.

“It is not slavery, sir!” said Tavi indignantly.

“Tavi, I don’t pay you,” said Cedric. “It’s slavery. It’s wrong. I— I can’t—”

“You are saying house-elves have a choice, Master Cedric,” said Tavi insistently, smacking his pant leg with her pamphlet. She definitely was the most outspoken house-elf Hermione had ever met. “Tavi refuses to go back to Master Diggory! Master Diggory mistreats me!”

“Tavi, I don’t think—”

“What’s going on honey?” Hana asked, exiting the basement.

“I heard shouting,” said Amalea, coming down the stairs.

Beatrice soon followed, holding Chibuzo.

“What’s going on?”

Hermione covered her ears at the overlapping chatter.

“Quiet!” she shouted.

Chibuzo screeched a little, but calmed down when the room did.

“Family meeting,” said Hermione, quickly chugging down the rest of her shake. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Now. We’ll fill Dad in later.”

Everyone crowded around the table, Tavi standing on a step stool and placing her hands on the table.

“The Family meeting has come to order,” said Hermione. “Our topic today: Tavi insists on being Cedric’s house-elf, but all of us question the morality of owning a Magical Being who technically has no free-will and is not paid monetarily for her work. Tavi, please present your case.”

Tavi went a little red and cleared her throat.

“Tavi— _I_ have been caring for Cedric since he was born and have seen him grow up,” she said, drumming her fingers on the table. “I cared for his mother and uncle, I cared for his grandfather and great uncle, and I cared for his great grandfather all in the same way. I love Cedric very much and now, more than ever, he needs someone to care for him. Unless I am ordered, I refuse to go back to Master Amos Diggory. He has mistreated me. Mistress Willoughby has refused me. According to this pamphlet I found, Miss Hermione believes that house-elves have the right to choose their employer.”

“Thank you, Tavi,” said Hermione. When Cedric raised his hand, she nodded at him.

“Tavi,” he said. “I love you, too, but I am a werewolf now. Odds are, they’re going to make a law that I can’t have a house-elf. Plus, the more I learn, the more I feel like it isn’t… moral to have you.”

“So you is wanting to free Tavi?”

Cedric kept his mouth shut. He was probably afraid of the reaction to either answer.

“Tavi,” said Hermione. “Would it really be a dishonor is you were freed? We could still employ you—”

“You are not suggesting this, Miss!” Tavi shouted, tears filling her eyes. “Tavi wants to work! Tavi would take care of all of you! Tavi loves babies! Tavi could help with Granger Baby.”

“We are not denying you the right to work,” said Hermione. “We want you to have the free-will to make your own choices. You could still work for Cedric and take care of Cedric, but you would be paid for it. We would give you a place to sleep. You would have, er, benefits!”

“Dental,” said Beatrice.

“Yeah, dental and… uh…”

“Health,” said Hana.

“Right!” said Hermione. “You can do everything you would usually do, but the only difference is that you would be an employee, not property.”

Tavi tensed as if she were questioning everything ingrained into her all her life.

“We’ll give you some time to think about it,” said Hermione.

Tavi nodded and snapped her fingers, disappearing.

Cedric groaned and thunked his head on the table.

“I feel sick,” he said.

Hermione rubbed his back gently. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” he said. “I’m fully realizing how messed up my ancestors were. I asked Tavi if it was slavery when I was ten and she said it wasn’t and I accepted that. I’m also realizing that jidha wasn’t really allowed to practice who she was. The only time she dressed in Algerian clothes is during family photos but most of the time she dressed European. My mum and uncle learned French and just a little bit of Arabic mostly picked up from context clues and a lullaby. I learned a little bit of Arabic the same way. I now know that I wasn’t supposed to learn it at all.”

Manuia placed a hand on Cedric’s head.

“White people be that way,” he said. “I’m just glad Hermy had parents like Bea and Roger.”

Beatrice nodded.

“I’m proud of you for sticking to your morals,” he continued. “Be the one to break the status quo.”

Cedric sighed and nodded, then turned his head to Hermione.

“Do you seriously drink that stuff every morning?”

“It’s full of protein,” she said defensively. “I know it tastes like sludge—”

“It _is_ sludge.”

“— but it’s good for me to have after my workouts.”

“That’s what spam and eggs are for,” said Amalea.

“Spam is worse!” Hermione argued.

“Worse than green sludge?”

“It’s not even real meat.”

“And what you're drinking isn’t even real food.”

“Hey, calm down,” said Hana. “Both spam and sludge are gross.”

“You’re too picky,” Manuia teased.

“Meeting adjourned,” said Hermione, knocking on the table. “We’ll hold it again once Tavi makes her decision.”

“Yes,” said Beatrice. “For now, I think we’d better start packing. I’d like the house to be clean before we leave. Hermione that includes your sink being wiped down.”

“Amalea, make sure you pick up everything,” said Hana. “If you forget something, we’re not turning around.”

“I haven’t unpacked my trunk,” said Cedric.

“Put a change of clothes in your backpack and I’ll take your trunk up to the ship,” said Manuia.

“Has it been there all this time?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Hana. “The birds are getting freaked out.”

“Are we taking the cats with us?”

“Yes,” said Beatrice.

“What about Tavi if she decides she wants to be freed?”

“She can come too,” said Manuia.

“If she doesn’t agree to be freed,” said Hana. “She can’t come to America. All house-elves have been freed there and it’s illegal to own one. In fact, Britain is one of the few places that still allows the owning of House-Elves.”

“I didn’t know that,” said Cedric.

“And a lot of Americans don’t know that America is built off the backs of slaves and genocide of the indigenous peoples,” said Amalea. “Or that Hawaii was taken from its Queen and our traditions have been turned into tourist attractions.”

“Alright that I did know,” said Cedric. “Queen Lilikulani, wait no, Lili’uokalani. She wrote Aloha ‘Oe for her country when she was imprisoned for not giving her country over to the Americans.”

“Aww, you listened to me,” said Hermione.

“I always listen,” Cedric replied. “Except when I’m not but when I realize you’re talking to me, I listen. Er— you know what I mean.”

Hermione laughed and stood up. “I’m going to go finish packing.”

"I should go meet jidha."

The house was busy for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon. Roger returned home from work and watched Chibuzo while his wife packed. Packing was one of the things he wasn't good at, so he just stayed out of the way.

Hermione decided to leave her school trunk at home. She wanted to have a bit more time with Cedric before having to go to a different school. She wished more than anything that she wasn’t transferring, but she was too scared to return to Hogwarts. If she wasn’t so sure he’d be Head Boy, she’d probably try and convince him to transfer too. At least they would be together.

Hana levitated all of their luggage onto the ship and Manuia carried it all down to the hull for safe-keeping. The cats were hiding knowing something was happening.

Since it didn’t make much sense to messy up the kitchen after cleaning it, they ordered in Chinese food. Shortly after it arrived, Tavi returned.

“Family meeting,” Hermione called. “Living Room.”

They all crowded onto the couch, Hermione squeezing into the recliner with her sister.

“I have been doing a lot of thinking,” said Tavi shakily. “And as long as I am working, then I should like to be freed. I should like be paid what Dobby the house-elf is paid which is one galleon a month, I will not accept more. When Master Cedric is at school, I would like to remain here to be helping the Grangers. I do not think I could handle working alongside other elves, especially since they would treat me horribly for being freed.”

“Alright,” said Cedric. “Um… does the item of clothing have to belong to me?”

“I… I do not know,” she said.

“Hermione, do you have something I could give her?” he asked.

“Oh, I have the perfect thing,” said Beatrice, running upstairs.

She returned with a pretty scarf made of silk and patterned in gold and black.

“Perfect,” said Cedric, clearing his throat and holding the scarf out. “Tavi. You have done amazing work over the years, however I cannot ignore the… the immorality of owning you. Therefore, I present you with this clothing and ask if I can employ you.”

Tavi took the scarf, still trembling, and wrapped it around her neck.

“I would very much like to be employed, Master Cedric,” she said. “Very much so.”

Cedric grinned and hugged her as tight as he dared. Tavi hugged him back, releasing the breath she’d been holding in.

“Now,” she said. “Where are we going?”

“Hawaii,” said Cedric. “The other side of the world.”

Tavi paled. “Oh, my.”

~o0o~

The next morning, the family all gathered onto the boat to, at last, go to Hawaii. Roger, Beatrice, and Chibuzo would be staying for three days before taking a plane back to England. They had wanted it to be longer, but since Cedric was hospitalized during the first week of their holiday, they didn’t want to work on rescheduling again. It wasn’t fair to their patients, they said.

The cats took some time to wrangle, but eventually they were on the boat. Manuia was talking to Stephen Squawking and trying to explain that he couldn’t curse around a baby, but all Stephen had to reply with was, “Fuck off!”

“I blame you for this,” he said, glaring at his wife.

“Alright,” said Hana, sending her husband a wink. “Please take your seats. We’re going a long way and we’ll be bending the laws of space and time so keep inside the vehicle at all times. Once we’re stable you’ll be free to move about the cabin. There’s a bathroom and beds. We’ll be in Hawaii in twenty-three hours.”

“I’m sorry _how_ long?” Cedric asked.

“We can only go the speed of an average Boeing,” said Hana. “We’ve got games and books. Sit.”

Hermione sat down and put her headphones on before taking Cedric’s hand.

_-23 hours later-_

“LAND!” Amalea shouted, sliding down the ladder, dropping to the ground, and kissing the sand. “SWEET LAND!”

“Oh, you’re so dramatic,” said Hermione, climbing down after her.

Stephen Squawking launched himself off the railing and swooped into the trees, thrilled to be back in his home rainforest.

“Alright, family,” Roger and Manuia chorused. They looked at each other and laughed.

“Go ahead, Manny,” said Roger. “It’s your home turf.”

“Okay, family,” said Manuia. “We’re all going to unload the boat, unpack, and then take a nap. Tonight, we’re all going to the best restaurant on the island if I do say so myself.”

“Allow me to unload the boat, sir,” said Tavi.

“Oh, Tavi, you don’t have to,” said Cedric.

“I know,” she said and snapped her fingers.

All of the luggage appeared on the sand.

“Well, that was easy,” said Hana.

Tavi climbed down the ladder and stared down at the sand in fascination, wiggling her toes and shifting her feet. She scooped some sand up in her hands and watched it fall through her fingers.

“It’s all beautiful isn’t it?” said Hermione.

Tavi nodded and looked out at the water in a trance while the rest of the family climbed down the ladder.

Cedric went last, making sure his arm was secure before making his way down the ladder. About halfway through, his prosthetic hand refused to unclench.

“Oh, come on,” he growled, using his other hand to pry open the fingers.

“Do you need help?” Hermione asked.

“No,” he said. “I’m fine.”

Hermione pursed her lips. He’s never had trouble asking for help before, why was it so different now?

The entire arm came off when he tugged too hard and he fell back with a cry of surprise. His leg got twisted in the rope and he ended up hanging upside down.

“Crikey O’Reilly!” Hermione shouted.

“I got you, kid,” said Manuia, climbing up the ladder.

Once Cedric’s feet were on the ground, he flushed in embarrassment and didn’t seem to know what to do.

“Um, welcome to Kaua’i,” said Hermione, spreading her arms wide.

“Kaa-why!” said Chibuzo cheerfully.

“Yes, Bubu,” said Hermione. “Cow-wa-ee.”

“Well, I think it’s nap time,” said Beatrice. “Your home looks absolutely lovely.”

“It looks bigger than last time,” Hermione noted.

“We expanded some with Maite’s help,” said Manuia. “Although… I haven’t actually seen what she did yet. Tavi, where would you like to sleep?”

“Oh, any place is fine,” said Tavi. "Do you have an attic?”

“We have an attic,” said Manuia, “But I don’t think anyone should live in an attic.”

“Cedric lived in the attic,” said Hermione.

“That was by choice,” said Cedric. “I couldn’t stand anywhere else…” His eyes widened. “My letters!”

“What’s wrong?" Hermione asked.

“Oh, my God, the letters you sent me. They were all hidden in my floor boards and… and now they’re gone… along with pictures of my mum…” He plunked onto the sand.

“They aren’t all gone,” said Tavi. She bounded over to the luggage and grabbed her own tiny suitcase, courtesy of Roger and Beatrice. She flicked it open and removed a box, bringing it to Cedric. “They are all there.”

Cedric opened the box and withdrew a letter written in childish script.

“Oh, thank you, Tavi,” he said.

“I knew how important Miss Hermione’s letters are to you.”

“Letters?” Amalea asked, grabbing one from the box. “Dear Cedric, How are you? I’m doing better than usual. The Christmas Holidays are coming up and Mum and Dad are taking me skiing in the Swiss Alps.”

Cedric took the letter back and placed it in the box.

“Did you keep every letter Hermy ever wrote you?” she asked. When he nodded, she sighed. “That is so romantic.”

Cedric blushed and cleared his throat.

“I also have pictures,” said Tavi, giving Cedric one of him and both his parents.

Cedric looked down at the blissful smiles and waves.

“Mum, budge over,” he said, using his thumb to part her and Amos. When he was satisfied that they were far enough apart, he ripped off Amos’s side with his teeth and spat it out. It was picked up by the wind and brought out to sea.

Picture-Belphoebe and Picture-Cedric looked up in alarm. Cedric gave the picture back to Tavi. Hermione held her hands out to him. He extended his arm and she pulled him to his feet.

“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m fine. No, I’m just tired. I’ll be right as rain after a nap.”

Hermione grabbed her luggage and trudged up the steps to the house. Thank God they didn’t take a plane. That would have been awful. As soon as she entered the house, she released the cats and went to the laundry room to set up their dishes and litter boxes. Sure, there was sand outside but she didn’t want to clean up after them out there.

The cats ran around the house trying to figure out where the hell they were and explore the new territory.

“Okay,” said Manuia. “Kids are upstairs. Adults, downstairs.”

“I got first dibs!” Hermione shouted, racing up the newly made stairs.

“No fair!” Amalea called after her. “I live here more than you.”

“I’m the oldest!” Hermione replied from the top of the staircase. “And I’m already up the stairs!”

“Don’t go stomping around,” Hana called. “There’s a baby in the house.”

“I know I cry sometimes, but I’m not that much of a baby,” came Cedric’s voice.

Hermione laughed and looked around at the three doors before realizing her name was stenciled on one. She ran over and threw open the door.

“No way!” she gasped.

It was about the size of her room back home except a bit narrower. One entire section was just bed; wall to wall it was a bed surrounded by bookcases. A desk sat under the window, and on the opposite side, there were rows of cabinets that opened up as closet spaces that included a sliding door for hanging up dresses and stuff like that. The accent wall was painted a nice shade of lavender.

She got a running start and landed on the bed.

“Aw, no way!” Amalea gasped, seeing her room, then ran to the other room and screamed excitedly. “Oh my God! This is amazing!”

Hermione got up and saw Cedric round the staircase.

“I have my own bathroom,” said Amalea, sticking her head out of her room.

“I’m surrounded by a library,” said Hermione.

“You’re surrounded by a library in England.”

“Yes, and I’m surrounded by one again. It will make me less homesick. What’s your room like, Cedric?”

He seemed surprised that a door had his name on it. Then again, it was their home for the next three-and-a-half weeks. If you weren’t comfortable then it would go by a lot more slowly.

“What’s your room like?” she asked again, poking her head in.

Though it was the smallest bedroom, Cedric was given as much space as either girl. He had a full-sized loft bed with a computer desk underneath and the quirky closet space Hermione had in her room. On one wall was a clock except instead of numbers it had the phases of the moon. The room itself was in more neutral, warm colors and Hermione felt it suited Cedric very well.

“Oh, look,” she said. “Maite put a window on the ceiling so you can see the stars.”

“Wow,” said Cedric, setting his suitcase down and taking in the room.

“I assume the bathroom is through here,” said Hermione, opening the door. “Yep, it’s a Jack-and-Jill bathroom. Oh, nice! There’s a water closet.”

“Nice,” said Cedric.

“You look tired,” said Hermione. “I’ll let you unpack and rest.”

“Allow me to unpack,” said Tavi, startling them both.

“Thank you, Tavi,” said Cedric. He kicked his shoes off next to the wall and climbed up the ladder to the bed. It wasn’t terribly tall and the ladder was at a small incline making it easy for him to climb it one-armed. He settled down on the mattress and sighed. “Oh, that’s nice.”

Hermione blew a kiss and went downstairs to find Papá gushing over his new kitchen which, apparently, wasn’t even supposed to have changed. The peeling yellow paint was replaced with a stylish blue and the cabinets were no longer a dull brown but completely white. They had more room in the cabinets and at the kitchen table as well.

“How are your rooms?” he asked Hermione, kissing her on the head.

“Brilliant, Papá,” she said. “I wish I could put it in a suitcase and take it everywhere.”

“That’s Maite, Ana, and Elisa for you,” he said. “Once they get started on a project they see it through. No doubt the Sanchez Villa got some renovations, too.”

“Do they do it often?” Hermione asked.

“Eh, every five years or so,” he said. “As the family grows and changes, so does the house. Plus, they have two boys staying this summer and those boys aren’t married to a Sanchez woman.”

“Not _yet_ ,” said Hermione. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Viktor proposes within the next year.”

“They’re that serious?” he asked.

“Papá, he knows everything,” said Hermione. “About… about Esperanza’s past.”

“Everything?” Manuia grew uncomfortable. “Even the part that involves me? Wait… do you even know?"

Hermione nodded. “He doesn’t care. When I asked Zaza about it, she said it’s easier because she realized they had matching baggage. Whatever that means.”

Manuia seemed to know what it meant because he nodded slowly.

“Papá, what does matching baggage mean?” she asked.

“Well…” he sat down at the kitchen table. “It’s like… um… well, you and Cedric have some matching baggage. You both saw your moms die, you both understand that pain and loss.”

“Oh.” That left Hermione wondering what sort of baggage Viktor carried. It wasn’t her place to know or ask, but she couldn’t help but be curious.

“Go on and rest,” said Manuia.

“I’m not tired,” she replied.

“You don’t have to sleep,” he said. “You can just read a book until it’s time for us to leave for dinner.”

“Well, alright.”

Hermione scooped up Crookshanks and brought him upstairs with her. Belle wasn’t too far behind, but she diverged to go into Cedric’s room. He was already buried under the covers of his new bed, sleeping soundly while Tavi finished putting his things away.

“Will you be needing any assistance, Miss?” Tavi asked quietly.

“No thank you,” said Hermione. “I prefer to deal with my own knickers.”

“Alright,” she said. “Just call for me if you are needing me. I put a Trace on all of you.”

“Thanks,” said Hermione. “Love what you’re doing with the scarf.”

Tavi smiled and smoothed down the scarf which she had taken to wearing like a sash over her clean pillow cases. Hermione just knew Esperanza was going go insist on making outfits for the little creature. How that would go would depend on how Tavi took to her freedom.

“If it is being alright,” said Tavi. “I would like to see more of the beach.”

“You have freedom now, Tavi,” said Hermione. “You don’t have to ask for permission, you’ll just need to let us know. Oh! Hang on.”

She dug around her bag and found a bottle of sunscreen.

“Put this on before you go out,” she said. “I don’t want you getting sunburned.”

“Thank you, Miss.” Tavi started to bow but thought better of it and just nodded her head instead.

Good. If only Winky could have taken it this well. Then again, Tavi was already being shaped for freedom with Basira, then Belphoebe, and again with Cedric.

Hermione went into her room and unpacked, then opened her window to let in the sea breeze. She crawled onto her bed and put her books on the shelves. Rather than read one, she decided to spread out and look up at the ceiling which looked like the sky but definitely wasn’t the real sky. It was enchanted like Hogwarts’ ceiling.

The Enchanted Ceiling was probably Hermione’s favorite part of Hogwarts. Especially when it reflected the night sky. She supposed she would miss Hogwarts in a way. She would miss her friends Padma, Daphne, Hannah, and Ginny. She’d also miss Harry. Hell, she’ll even miss Ron, Fred, and George. Still, at least she had people she knew going to Castelobruxo.

She just wished she was still going to the same school as Cedric. Sure in a year it’d just be moot but she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible this summer even to the point of smothering because she knew it wouldn’t be until Christmas that they’d get to hold each other.

Hermione looked over at her bookcase and realized there was one she hadn’t noticed before.

_How to Become an Animagus_

That’s right! Sirius was able to be around Professor Lupin during that time of the month when he was in dog form. If she became an animagus, then she could be with him during his transformations. At least next summer she would be. At school he would have Professor Lupin at least.

Hermione grabbed the book off the shelf and opened it, sitting up slightly so she wouldn’t get a crick in her neck.

By the time she got to the recipe for the potion she would have to take, a knock came at her door.

“Come in,” she called.

The door opened and a confused voice called back. “Mimi?”

“Over here, Mum,” she said, crawling to the edge of her bed.

“Ohh, this set up is just brilliant,” said Beatrice. “Your cousins are brilliant with interior design.”

“Yes, they are,” said Hermione proudly. “Did you need something, Mum?"

“Oh, just to let you know we’re leaving in thirty minutes to go to dinner. I let Cedric and Amalea know, too.”

“Great, thanks Mum.”

Hermione sprung to her feet and opened up her closet door to look at her clothes. Pursing her lips, she left her room and leaned over the stairs.

“How are you guys dressing?” she called.

“Casual!” Manuia called.

Okay, casual. Hermione went back into her room and put on one of her more casual dresses, wrapped a cardigan around her waist, and clipped a flower in her hair. She checked herself out in the mirror. Did she look cute? Yeah, she looked cute.

When she left her room, Cedric left his dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a cotton button-up over that. The jeans would be too hot, but she wasn’t about to nag him about his clothing choices again. He’d dress in lighter clothes when he could no longer stand the heat.

“No arm?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “It hurts too much to wear.”

“Mm, I understand,” she said. “I mean— I can imagine. I— it hurt when my hands were cursed and like I couldn’t have things touch them I— I’ll just stop talking.”

Cedric kissed her cheek, smiled, and followed her down the stairs.

“Okay,” said Manuia. “We’re going to walk to the restaurant because my jeep can’t fit all of us. Think we can manage a couple miles?"

“I think so,” said Roger.

The walk to the restaurant didn’t feel that long. Hermione walked with her sandals in her hand and dragged her toes through the sand as they walked. The sun was beginning to set, truly showing the beauty of the ocean. Hermione loved the sand on this island and the rocky shores of her city in D.R. Nothing beat a sunset somewhere that was already beautiful.

“At dinner, we should plan what we’re going to do tomorrow,” said Hermione.

“Hana and I talked about it,” said Manuia. “And we think you should get to spend it with Roger and Beatrice seeing the island with just them. Amalea can act as tour guide and keep you away from tourist traps.”

“We don’t mind,” said Roger. “Having all eight of us together.”

“We know,” said Hana. “We’ll do all this at Christmas. Manny and I already know the island and feel that we wouldn’t want to explore as much.”

“That’s fair,” said Beatrice. “And there’s always dinner and evenings together.”

“Not to say we won’t go places as a family,” said Manuia. “There’s a great spot to canoe to and see the stars.”

“That sounds lovely."

Manny’s Diner and Karaoke Bar was bustling, but Janice, the hostess, made sure they got a table. One girl was warbling her way through a Celine Dion song when Amalea got the song menu and brought it to the table.

“Everyone has to sing,” she said. “House rule. Bubu, you get a free pass because you’re a baby.”

“Cow-why!” he said.

“Duets are fine,” Amalea continued. “Hermy, Cedric are you going to do a duet?”

“Mm… no,” said Hermione, skimming through the duets. “The only one I really know is _Summer Nights_ which is… terrible.”

“Seconded,” said Cedric, looking over her shoulder at the menu.

“I’m going to embarrass you,” said Roger.

“Dad, no,” said Hermione.

“Too late,” he said. “Your mother and I are singing Waterloo.”

“I’ll put you on the list,” said Amalea, running up to the stage to let Kai know.

“I don’t know what to sing,” said Hermione.

“Why don’t you sing a Selena song?” Beatrice suggested.

Hermione felt her throat tighten. She still wasn’t over Selena’s death.

“N-no,” she said, her lower lip trembling. “It’s too soon.”

Cedric rubbed her back. “How about Whitney Houston?”

“Nah,” she said, tilting her head. “I’ll sing… ‘Something’s Got A Hold on Me.’”

“Made your decision?” Amalea asked.

Hermione told her her decision but Cedric whispered his selection to Amalea.

“Seriously?” said Amalea. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Alright.”

Manuia brought them drinks including a little sippy cup full of water for Chibuzo.

“Virgin Piña Coladas for the children and Piña Coladas that have been around the block a few times for the adults.”

“Thanks, Manny,” said Beatrice, taking a sip of hers, then taking the umbrella to show Chibuzo.

“You guys ready to order? Cedric?”

“Um… I’ve never had a hamburger before,” he said.

“What?!” Manuia put his hands on his hips. “I am going to make you the best damn hamburger of your life, kid.”

“I’ll have a hamburger, too, Papá,” said Hermione.

“Well,” said Beatrice. “The brochures say Manny’s Diner has the best entertainment and best hamburgers on the island.”

“Hamburgers all around,” said Hana.

“I want Mac n’ Cheese,” said Amalea, adding on a “Please.”

“You got it, precious,” he said, ruffling her hair.

“So, what do you think?” Hana asked.

“Oh, this restaurant is quality,” said Roger. “Pure quality. I’ve never been to a place like it.”

“I loved going here as a toddler,” said Hermione. “Back then it wasn’t a karaoke place and Papá didn’t own it. How did he get it, Mama Hana?”

“You want the truth?” said Hana, leaning in. “He won it in a game of Poker.”

“Seriously?” Cedric laughed.

“Yep. Ray asked for it back, but Manny said any man who bets his restaurant in a game doesn’t deserve to keep it.”

“Seems to be doing well for himself,” said Beatrice, sipping her drink and making sure Chibuzo wasn’t spilling his.

While they waited for their food, Roger and Beatrice regaled everyone with their version of "Waterloo" by _ABBA_. They weren’t bad singers, but they insisted on dancing. Squashing down her embarrassment, Hermione pumped her fist in the air and cheered.

Manuia came by carrying a tray and passed out plates of food to his family.

“Excuse me,” said a woman, tapping his arm. “Why did they get served before us? We’ve been here longer.”

“I don’t work here,” Manuia deadpanned, passing the tray off to a waitress and sitting down.

Hermione and Amalea broke into giggles.

“I cut your burger in half Cedric,” he said. “To make it easier to eat. It’s just a classic burger and then, if you like it, you can try a specialty burger another time. Hermy, I made your burger patty thin, just like you like it.”

“Gracias, Papá.”

Cedric carefully picked up a burger half and studied it before taking a big bite. He chewed slowly and swallowed.

“Merlin, Morgana, and Gandalf,” he said. “How have I never had one of these before?”

“Glad you like it,” said Manuia.

“Alright, alright, alright,” said Kai. “Next up, the musical stylings of Herminia!”

Hermione kissed Cedric’s cheek and went up on stage. She took the mic and cleared her throat. By practicing with the choir, she’d really honed in her singing skills.

As she sang, some conversation dwindled and people looked at the stage bolstering her self-esteem. Cedric whooped and lifted his drink.

Hermione had more fun singing this time. Her shyness 90% obliterated this past year. When she finished singing, people applauded and Kai took the mic.

“That was Herminia! Up next we got Cedric.”

Hermione smiled at Cedric and gave him the mic as she passed. The audience definitely took notice of a boy like Cedric. The girls at first due to his attractiveness but the rest of the crowd noticing how he looked like he came out of a war zone.

But nothing could prepare them for the song he chose.

As the opening notes for _We Belong_ by Pat Benatar played, Cedric looked at the audience and sang.

_Many times I tried to tell you_

_Many times I cried alone_

_Always I’m surprised how well you cut my feelings to the bone_

_Don’t want to leave you really_

_I’ve invested too much time to give you up that easy_

_To the doubts that complicate your mind_

He whipped his head and sang dramatically without compromising his beautiful voice. Halfway through the song, he jumped off the stage and walked toward Hermione. She threw her head back and laughed. She went near to tears when he sat down on her lap. The rest of her family nearly fell out of their chairs laughing.

“You’re such a dweeb!” she howled and buried her face in his shoulder as he finished out the song.

He kissed her on the lips, grinned, and went back up on stage to give the microphone back, everyone clapping and cheering for him. He bowed and hurried back to the table.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it,” Amalea laughed.

“I’m afraid I have an ulterior motive,” Cedric admitted. “I wanted all the blokes here to know that Hermione already has a boyfriend to embarrass her in public.”

“Oh, come on,” said Hermione.

“I mean it,” he said. “There are several blokes here who are staring at you. Not that I blame them.”

“Ew,” said Hermione, wrinkling her nose. “Tourists.”

Cedric stared at her. “Love, I _am_ a tourist.”

“Yeah, but you’re not a _Tourist_ ,” she said, emphasizing the word and pushing the meaning.

“Ohh, I see,” he said. “Appreciate vs. appropriate.”

“You got it.”

They enjoyed the rest the evening, Hermione and Cedric going on stage one more time to sing _Bohemian Rhapsody_ before heading home. Chibuzo had fallen asleep and Hana apparated home since she had to work in the morning.

~o0o~

On one of the last nights Roger and Beatrice were staying in Hawaii, Hana found a babysitter for Chibuzo so they could go on a late-night excursion as a family.

“So, who is this person?” Beatrice asked as they were cleaning up from dinner.

“Keone,” said Hana. “He’s about Cedric’s age and wants to work in childcare. I’ve never met him, but he comes highly recommended. Unfortunately, asking around for a babysitter made everyone think I was pregnant, again, so I’ve had people coming in and out of my shop congratulating me and not buying anything.”

“Oops,” Beatrice laughed.

“Anyway, he agreed to stay until we return home tonight,” Hana continued. “He got his apparition license a couple months ago and I told him where he can reach us.”

“You thought of everything, Hana,” said Roger.

The doorbell rang and a knock came at the front door.

“I got it,” said Hermione.

“Don’t forget your bat,” Cedric teased.

Hermione pushed him gently and glanced out the window to confirm that the person outside looked about the age Keone was supposed to be. He was, so she opened the door.

Keone was slightly taller than her, appeared to be about half-Korean, and had very nice teeth. He was an incredibly attractive person and he just had a lovely aura. Slung over one shoulder was a blue quilted bag no doubt filled with things to help him with his job. Hermione would trust him with her baby if she had one.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Keone.”

“Hi, Keone,” she said. “I’m Herminia, come on in.”

“Hello, Keone,” said Beatrice, exiting the kitchen and shaking Keone’s hand. “I’m Beatrice Granger, Chibuzo’s mother.”

Hermione closed the door and went back to finish cleaning up while her parents talked to Keone about Chibuzo. She glanced back into the living room a couple times, Keone turned to look at her, smiled and nodded with a small wave.

Hermione put the last plate away and went over to Cedric.

“Is he trustworthy?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“Yes,” he replied. “I can see his mental checklist. He knows what he’s doing and he doesn’t seem fazed by this odd family situation. He also seems to think you’re pretty cute.”

She quirked up an eyebrow. “Is that a tinge of jealousy I’m hearing?”

“A bit,” he admitted.

“Stop it,” she said and kissed his cheek. “Remember, I have to know a person for nine years and they have to save my life at _least_ once for me to get a crush on them.”

Cedric laughed.

“Alright,” said Keone, finishing up his note-taking. “I think I’ve got everything.”

“Help yourself to anything in the fridge or the pantry, Keone,” said Manuia.

“Moving out?” Hermione asked.

“Moving out,” he confirmed.

Hermione grabbed the bag with their supplies and Cedric put his backpack on. The seven of them made their way down to the canoes Hana borrowed.

“Chibuzo will be alright, won’t he?” Beatrice fretted.

“Beatrice, he’ll be okay, we were away longer than this before."

“Yes, but we really knew the sitter.”

“Don’t worry,” said Hana. “He will be just fine.”

“Keone knows what he’s doing,” said Cedric. “I made eye contact with him on the way out, Chibuzo is going to be just fine.”

“Well, that’s good,” said Beatrice. “But still, Bubu isn’t familiar with that house, what if he wakes up and gets scared?”

“Crikey O’Reilly, Mum,” said Hermione. “If you had adopted me as a baby, you might never have gone anywhere.”

“They wouldn’t have been able to,” said Manuia, stepping into his, Hana’s, and Amalea’s canoe. “You were a handful.”

“How much of a handful?” Cedric asked.

“Well,” he said. “It’s a good thing my mom has magic or I wouldn’t’ve had a _clue_ what was going on. I knew she’d be powerful.”

They couldn’t talk anymore while the canoes sailed themselves. It was too windy, their words would just be carried away. They had three canoes. One for Roger and Beatrice, one for Manuia, Hana, and Amalea, and one for Hermione and Cedric.

Hermione made sure her life jacket was secure, then wrapped her arms around Cedric’s middle and rested her cheek against his shoulder. He definitely accidentally used her soap again, but she didn’t mind. With the wind in her hair and the lovely evening, it should’ve been romantic, but the life-jacket was digging into her jaw. She’d take it off once they got to their location, but so long as the boat was moving she would wear it.

About thirty minutes later, the canoes slowed down as they approached a cove. From what Hermione could see in the light of the waning moon, it was a strip of beach that was guarded by volcanic teeth and high walls that turned into a wall of foliage. Their canoes just barely scraped over the hidden rocks and Hermione was certain that at low-tide this area would be completely closed off from the rest of the world.

Hermione took off her life-jacket and placed it behind her.

“This is where Manuia proposed to me,” said Hana. “We didn’t come by boat, though, we took the trail.”

“What trail?” Roger asked.

“Exactly,” said Hana.

“I planned for sunset,” said Manuia.

“We got there at midnight,” said Hana. “Still, it was incredibly romantic.”

“I bet,” said Beatrice.

“How did you propose, Rodge?” Manuia asked.

“Do we have to hear this goopy romance stuff?” Amalea asked.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Hana asked.

“No.”

“Then, yes.”

“I actually didn’t propose,” said Roger. “Beatrice did. I had planned to. Bought the ring and everything, but she beat me to it.”

Hermione rested her arms on the side of the boat and looked down into the inky water as her parents told the tales of the romantic proposals. She wasn’t thinking that far ahead in that department and, with her boyfriend being a legilimens, it’d be awkward to think about. Instead, she let her eyes adjust to the darkness.

The water was nearly waveless, and the more she stared down at the surface, the glassier it became and the more stars she could see until she might as well have been looking up.

“How about a story?” Manuia asked.

“Oh, yes,” said Amalea. “That’s more like it.”

Hermione grinned and lifted the slats making the seats of the canoe and placed them to the side so she could lay down on her back to stargaze. Cedric laid back as well so their heads were side-by-side and she could very easily kiss his temple if and when she wanted to.

“Alright,” said Manuia. “Look up at the stars. Can you find Maui’s hook?”

“Scorpius,” Hermione whispered. She cast a charm in her hand and outlined scorpius’ tail.

Cedric’s fingers lightly touched her hair.

“I see it,” said Amalea.

"Long ago, when the world was mostly water, there lived a great ulua fish called Pimoe. Maui and his brothers were sent by their father Akalana to capture this fish. However, he was incredibly tricky to catch because once he was seen by human eyes, he would die and become solid rock. Maui had already lifted the sky so he was up to the task. While his brothers fought about the best way to catch or trap Pimoe, Maui dropped his hook into the water and turned his back. Pimoe took the bait and swallowed the hook. As they sailed back, the fish began to struggle so much that even the strongest wind couldn't keep them from sailing forward. Maui's brothers turned around to get a better grip on the rope. Soon as they did the line snapped and Pimoe died and became an island. Furious with this, Maui pulled his hook from the island and threw it into the heavens, catching twelve stars along the way, and leaving the shape of it in the night sky."

“That’s lovely,” said Beatrice. “You tell such nice stories Manny. Got any more?"

“Oh, plenty,” he said.

“Tell the one about Pele and the mortal prince,” said Hermione.

It was wonderful, just being like this, all together. The sky was so gorgeous, more beautiful than the skies at Hogwarts. It was a little chilly, but Hermione was warm in her favorite cardigan and she loved the salty scent of the sea and something sweet and fragrant was drifting from the grove of trees.

They had a long moment of silence, just enjoying the moment with no words, when Cedric screamed and sat up suddenly, cutting through the silence. The foliage rustled from the disturbance and a bird somewhere cried in response. The scream wasn’t the end of it.

“Where’s my wand?” Cedric shouted, rocking the boat in his panic.

“Cedric, stop!” Hermione cried, gripping onto the sides of the boat. It’s okay! You’re okay!”

It rocked too far to the side and Cedric splashed in first, Hermione following with a shriek.

She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, thrashing around in the cold darkness. Pumping her legs, she broke the surface of the water and gasped for breath. The parents had their lights shining on the water, Cedric seemed to be swimming for shore, unaware of what he did.

Swimming still not being her forte, Hermione was having a hard time keeping her head above water. Manuia jumped in and helped her into his canoe before going and fixing the canoe she and Cedric were in.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Beatrice asked.

“I’m fine,” said Hermione. She was shaking slightly, but she was more concerned for Cedric.

Hana directed her flash light to the shore where Cedric was pacing around aimlessly.

“I’ll get him,” said Manuia.

Hana tossed him an oar and he paddled to the shore.

“I’d better go, too,” she said. “The canoes will take the rest of you home. _Sail.”_

As the canoes left the cove, Hana apparated to the shore. Hermione hugged her knees to her chest and shivered from the chill.

The canoes slowed as they got to the house and thudded onto the shore. Hermione jumped out, sighing with relief as her feet hit solid ground.

“Are you okay, love?” Beatrice asked, wrapping her own cardigan around Hermione’s shoulders.

“I’m okay,” said Hermione. “I’m more worried about Cedric.”

“Me too,” Beatrice admitted. “Poor boy has been through so much.”

“Dragons, sea monsters, chimaeras, those scorpion things, and giant spiders?” Roger shook his head.

“He also faced those acromantulas his fourth year,” said Hermione. “And a Basilisk. And then, the year after, he faced the dementors a couple times.”

“You kids shouldn’t have to deal with these things,” said Beatrice angrily. “If Amos had just appreciated Cedric then he never would have entered the tournament and he wouldn’t be having nightmares every night!”

“I don’t know how to help him,” Hermione sighed. “I’ve been reading that book on P.T.S.D. but there’s only so much _I_ can do. María, she’s a therapist, can probably help. She can talk to him.”

“But he has to be willing to talk,” said Beatrice.

When they entered the house, Keone was lying on the couch with Chibuzo on his chest.

“He likes a heartbeat,” said Keone, looking over at them. “Did you have fun?”

“Sure,” said Hermione. “Tavi.”

Tavi popped into the room, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She was not a night elf which is why she wasn’t babysitting so late.

“What is the matter, miss?” she asked.

“Cedric’s having a panic attack,” said Hermione. “Is there anyway to calm him down?”

Tavi stilled. “Where is he?”

Hermione grabbed a map of the island off the counter and studied it trying to figure out where that cove was.

“There,” said Amalea, pointing to it.

Tavi studied it a moment, nodded, and apparated.

Keone carefully got up and passed Chibuzo to Beatrice.

“Here,” he said quietly so as to not wake the baby.

Chibuzo looked absolutely angelic as he slept.

“Thank you, Keone,” said Beatrice. “How did he do?”

“There was slight trouble when he woke up and realized you weren’t home,” Keone admitted. “But I managed to calm him down and I read to him a bit. He fell right to sleep when he heard my heartbeat. I’ll just bow out now. Have a nice night.”

“You too, Keone,” said Roger.

As soon as he was out the door, Keone apparated.

“I’m going to go dry off and change,” said Hermione, glancing at the microwave clock. It was just shy of 2:30.

“Good idea,” said Beatrice. “Perhaps tomorrow the three of us can do something since we’ll be leaving the day after.”

“Good idea,” said Hermione. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

~o0o~

Hermione loved spending time with her parents on her island. Showing them how unique and beautiful it was with both sandy beaches, rocky cliffs, and its own rainforest full of life. They even swam in the reef. Well, Hermione, Roger, Amalea, and Beatrice swam in the reef while Cedric sat on shore with Chibuzo. He claimed he was okay with it, but Hermione didn’t quite believe him.

The one place Hermione longed to bring her parents to was Kilokilo but she wasn’t sure what their policy was on No-Majs. Her papá hardly ever went there.

It didn’t matter, there was only so much they could squeeze into a few days.

On the morning they were to return to England, Hermione rode along so she could say goodbye to them outside the terminal. She was going to miss them terribly, but promised to try and see them before school started or at least at Christmas. She and Manuia waited until the plane was in the air.

The drive back home was silent.

“Hermy, how would you like to learn how to drive?” Manuia asked.

“Huh?” She looked up. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “You’ll be sixteen in September. Come on, we’ll start right now.”

He drove to the (almost) empty parking lot of his diner and they switched sides. It was still strange to Hermione to have the driver’s side be on the left side of the car and not the right. She had to adjust the seat a lot so her feet would reach the pedals and then adjusted the mirrors.

“Okay,” said Manuia. “Foot on the break and turn the key to start the car.”

Hermione froze with her foot on the break and her hand on the key. A light rain was starting.

“No!” she said, placing her hands on the sides of her head. “I can’t do it! I can’t do it! I can’t!”

“Herminia,” said Manuia. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have suggested this. I wasn’t thinking. Let’s go home.”

“N-no!” Hermione took several deep breaths as it began to rain harder.

Manuia took the keys out of the ignition.

“Let’s go inside, then,” he said. “I’ll make you some breakfast.”

Hermione nodded and followed him inside. Keanu the cook (teasingly called Reeves) was already setting up with Thomas, who was prepping the fruits and vegetables. Chris, the busboy, was trying not to fall asleep at the counter, and Kaila, the waitress, was right alongside him. They were both barely older than Hermione and were saving up money for college, she never met them, but she knew of them from Papá’s work stories.

“Wakey, wakey,” said Manuia, tapping his hand on the counter. “Have you two eaten?”

“Does a granola bar count?” Kaila asked tiredly.

“Well, that won’t do,” he said. “Hermy, go ahead and sit down with them. Nobody’s here, so I won’t go barking orders yet.”

Chris and Kaila laughed.

“You never bark orders,” said Chris. He looked at Hermione. “I’ve only ever seen him angry twice and one of the times he yelled. The time he was quiet was scarier.”

“I believe it,” said Hermione.

Chris did a double-take and looked her up and down. “Hi. I’m Chris.”

“I know,” she replied.

“Are… are you new?” he asked. “I mean, are you working here now?”

“No. I’m just here until the rain stops.”

“And if it doesn’t stop?”

“Then I’ll walk home,” she said.

“Here,” said Manuia, switching to a terrible British accent. “Coffee for you two and a fresh cuppa tea for you.”

“Your accent is terrible,” she said, sipping it.

“So you’re from England,” said Chris.

“That’s right,” she said. “Lived there for ten years.”

They made idle chit chat until Hermione could smell breakfast wafting through the air. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

“So, uh, what are you doing tomorrow?” Chris asked.

“I dunno. It depends. Why?”

“Did you, maybe, want to go somewhere?”

Oh… He was flirting. Pupils dilated, feet turned towards her, _leaning_. What did she do? She smiled big.

“Sounds like fun!” she said as her papá set down plates of food in front of them.

“Great!” said Chris lighting up.

Manuia raised an eyebrow.

“Can I bring my boyfriend along?” Hermione asked.

Chris wilted and Kaila patted him on the back.

“Is he cute?” Chris asked sullenly.

Hermione continued on pretending to be clueless. She didn’t know how else to deal with this.

“Super cute,” she said. “He’s got black hair and grey eyes and cheekbones that can cut cheddar.”

“Sounds dreamy,” said Manuia.

“Is it serious?” Chris asked, head lowering dangerously close to his stack of pancakes.

“Totally serious,” said Hermione. “He carved me this locket.”

“I’d say it’s serious,” said Manuia. “I wouldn’t let just any boy stay in my house.”

The boy gawked and mimed stabbing a knife through his heart.

“Papá,” she said. “After I eat, maybe we can call Hana and she can take me home.”

“Good idea, precious,” he said. “More tea?”

“Yes, please,” she said.

Chris took his plate and ate at the end of the bar. Kaila scooted over, taking his place.

“He’ll get over it,” she said. “He’s the type of guy to fall in love with a new girl every week.”

“Cedric was like that, too for a stretch,” said Hermione.

“How long have you been dating?”

“Since Christmas,” she replied.

Hermione finished her breakfast and Manuia called Hana. The weather worsened and Hermione hoped her parents would be safe on their flight. Hana entered the restaurant.

“Come on, Herminia,” she said. “Cedric and Amalea were wondering where you were.”

They went to the back where they could apparate without being seen. Hermione hated it. It felt as if a stretchy cloth were being pressed over her face and she couldn’t breathe.

“Are you alright?” Hana asked, supporting her as they entered the house.

“Yes,” said Hermione. “Just a little dizzy.”

“Mm, apparating can be like that,” she said.

Cedric and Amalea were lounging on the couch and watching Animaniacs which was turned up to drown out the rain.

“I’m going to go into work,” said Hana. “If the rain stops you can go into town, but if you do, call your dad and let him know.”

“Yes, Mom,” said Amalea.

Hana kissed her daughters on the heads and patted Cedric’s shoulder before leaving.

Hermione shed her jacket and placed it on a hook, then kicked off her shoes, before going over to the couch. She sat on the back and slowly slid so she she was hanging upside down between them.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Morning,” said Amalea.

“Morning, love,” said Cedric taking her hand and kissing it. He looked tired like he hadn’t been sleeping. “Did Roger and Beatrice get on alright?”

“Mmhm. I’m a little worried about the storm,” she said. “But I think they’ll be alright.”

“Did you eat breakfast?”

“Yes, at the diner,” said Hermione. “You won’t believe this, the busboy, Chris, was flirting with me. It was so awkward and I didn’t know what to do and when he asked me out I was like, ‘can my boyfriend come?’ And he was so crushed.”

“I’m surprised you noticed,” said Cedric. “I flirted with you for over four months.”

“Yes, but I actually liked you and wasn’t sure if you liked me back,” she replied. “Your flirting? Whepht!” She pantomimed it going over her head and Cedric laughed.

“I can’t wait to start flirting and dating,” said Amalea.

“Yes, you can,” said Hermione pointing at her. “Boys are pigs.”

“Yes, they are,” said Cedric.

“I don’t mean you,” Hermione told him.

“You never mean me,” he replied and squeezed her hand gently.

“Shh! Shows back on,” said Amalea.

“The TV will rot your brain, you know,” said Hermione.

“I stay up late reading books, so I think it balances out.”

“I know. I was just acting like a snooty big sister.” She adjusted so that she was laying across the couch with her legs in Amalea’s lap and her head in Cedric’s. “Is this a new episode or a rerun?”

“Reruns.”

The rain didn’t stop but Hermione didn’t mind. She liked slow, lazy days just as much as busy ones.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ughhhhhh, original content is so hard to produce, I’m still stuck on chapter two of Hermione’s POV and I still have to expand Cedric’s POV before posting Book Five. But hey, it’s looking like tumblr artists will still be able to maintain ownership of their art after the sale of tumblr, so guess who’s working on some Cedric/Hermione artwork? I’m also drawing Noa, Bianca, and Josefina (Esperanza’s sisters) since they’re going to be prominent characters for Book 5. Haven’t decided if it will be in school uniforms, regular outfits, or in quinceañera dresses. I could probably do a paper doll thing and just do all three for funsies. We’ll see. I was actually planning for it to be like a group photo but all separate might be better.  
> I don't know if I told you guys my art blog. It's becausewhynotofficial on tumblr. I also wanted to have an instagram, but instagram hates me and banned me ten seconds after making a blog. I wasn't even able to make a post.

_Cedric ran through the labyrinth. This time, though, there was no sky to escape through. Instead, he was in a cavern. No way out except the correct path. Monsters roaring and screams echoed throughout. He didn't want to be here. He wanted out! But where was it? That stupid trophy!_

_Where was his wand? He could easily forfeit._

_"Our Champions will have to duck and dodge through the maze!" shouted a jovial voice not unlike Ludo Bagman's but this one was crueler. More mocking. "But it isn't that easy. First, they have to find their wands which are hidden somewhere in the maze!"_

_"NO!" Cedric shouted. Why were they doing this?_

_He had to get his wand._

_But where was it?_

_"And one more thing! If they don't complete this fast enough, then they lose the person they cherish most!"_

_"Why?!" Hermione had nothing to do with this! He chose to enter the tournament._

_A giant hourglass formed over the maze and sand swirled around at different speeds. Cedric felt like he was facing everything at once and only a minute passed, but when he looked up, the hourglass was halfway empty._

_Finally, he saw her to the right. Hermione was standing in the center of the maze waiting for him._

_A section of the maze fell away to his left, he turned and saw his mum down another long pathway. She smiled and held her arms out for a hug._

_They were going to make him choose._

_He looked both ways and then up at the hourglass which was now nearly empty._

_A dark shadow loomed over his mother and her smile faded._

_"Mum!" he shouted, taking off towards her._

_Hermione screamed causing him to skid on the ground as he stopped in his tracks. He looked over his shoulder and saw the gold fog creep in around her._

_"Mimi! No!"_

_"Help me!" Mum cried._

_"Cedric!" Hermione shrieked._

_And then he was glued to his spot. His legs sank into the ground, somehow he was able to watch what was happening to his mum and girlfriend at the same time._

_The fog engulfed Hermione. She clutched at her throat as all of her veins turned black and raised from her skin. Her eyes turned a milky white and a screech was ripped from her throat._

_His mum was dragged back by the Thing, her tormented screams echoing through his ears._

_The ground swallowed him up and he couldn't breathe as the soil pressed down on him._

Cedric sat up with a short shout. He was covered with a layer of cold sweat, his heart thudded wildly in his chest, a pit of fear opened in his stomach at the shadows casted around his room. He tried to get up, but his blankets twisted around his legs and waist. He rolled over the guard rail of his bed and dropped to the floor, his blankets falling too. He didn’t stop and ran down the stairs, out the front door, and to the beach.

Falling to his knees, Cedric gulped down the night air, jumping when a wave surged over his legs, the sand giving away just a little. He stared up at the waning moon and took several deep breaths as the cool wind caressed his cheeks and ruffled his hair. His palm stung from when he hit the floor, but amazingly he wasn’t injured. His phantom limb prickled, but he couldn’t really focus on that. The nightmare was still fresh in his mind and he couldn’t push it away.

The staircase leading up to the house creaked as someone walked down. Light footsteps, barely audible from someone who was used to living in a multi-story home.

Hermione stood next to him and rested a hand on his head. Cedric could hear her thoughts from here. She heard him. The whole house probably heard him, but she wasn’t going to prod… oh, of course she read a book about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

“You’re up early,” she said then thought, _Ugh! Stupid thing to say!_

“What time is it?” he asked.

“4:30 in the morning,” she replied. _I think._

“Ah, it’s time to milk the cows,” he said, forcing a light laugh.

“There aren’t any cows on the island that I know of,” she said awkwardly. “Um, perhaps we can do something else instead.”

“Hermione, it’s alright,” he said. “You can go back to bed.”

“Nope, I’m already up,” she replied and sat down. “I wouldn’t mind sitting with you to watch the sunrise.”

“When is sunrise?”

“Six.”

“That leaves an hour and thirty minutes,” he said. “That’s a long time to sit.”

“Well, we would begin to see it in an hour,” she reasoned.

Cedric leaned his head against her and sighed, shifting so that he was no longer sitting on his legs but had them out in front of him. The tide wasn’t reaching as far, he noticed, and he was getting sand in his shorts, but the steady push and pull of the water, along with Hermione’s fingers gently massaging his scalp, was soothing.

They remained like this until the sky started lightening and turned pink.

His eyelids drooped and a yawn rose.

When he opened his eyes, he was lying in the hammock with a towel draped over his legs like a blanket and a pillow tucked under his head. He could tell it was still morning, but sunrise was long gone. He hadn’t even realized he fell asleep. How did he get into the hammock anyway? Certainly, he would have woken up if he was dragged there. No, Hermione probably got Tavi to help her.

Cedric rolled onto his side, comfortable and grasping for a little more sleep, but it was already beyond his reach. Even so, he closed his eyes and curled up. It seemed the longer he was here, the more at home he was. And the more at home he was, the more the anxiety set in. He wasn’t just Cedric in a different place. People were getting to know him and that just terrified him now. For so long, he’d wanted people to try and get to know the real him and, now, he was afraid of that. Would they like what they saw or would they hate it, too?

“Good morning,” said a soft voice.

He opened his eyes and saw Hermione’s face close to his.

“How was second sleep?” she asked.

“It was good,” he said.

“Good.” Hermione leaned in to kiss him.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,” he warned.

“I’ll have to face your morning breath eventually, won’t I?” she said and her ears went red. “I mean, because we’re living in the same house.”

Cedric chuckled and kissed her, cupping her cheek. Her brain always went like a fizzing whizzbee every time they kissed. She always thought: _Whee!_ Which was adorable. In his mind, it was like fireworks. Every single time.

A throat cleared, startling them both. Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and bit her lips. Hana crossed her arms but smiled.

“Go on and get ready to go, Cedric,” she said. “We’re going to Kilokilo today.”

“That’s right,” said Hermione. “I thought we could get you a new wand. I know it won’t be the same as your old one, but the materials are different here, so it might be a bit easier than trying to find one close enough to your old wand at Ollivander's."

“Okay,” he said. “What did you do with my old one?”

“It’s still in its case,” she said. “I didn’t want to throw it away; it was your first wand after all. It’s still special even if it no longer works.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he said and struggled to get out of the hammock.

“Do you need help?” Hermione asked.

“No, it’s fine,” he said.

It was so much harder to do things one-handed. He never realized how difficult doing something as simple as brushing your teeth or putting on a shirt could be without both hands. He hated looking at the stump—no— _residual_ limb as Hermione and her help books insisted on calling it. It was less offensive that way. Perhaps it was just a word for those who _had_ all their appendages to use.

Cedric shifted his body and did a short jump so he was perpendicular with the hammock, then grabbed onto the edge and hauled himself up. He still fell out, but it was onto both knees and not his face, so that was a win.

Hermione smiled at him and dusted sand from her legs before going up to the house.

Within an hour, Cedric, Hermione, Amalea, and Hana were on their way to Kilokilo. Hermione was wearing an eyepatch today since there was so much magic going on it would make her nauseated to see it all. She also cuddled up to him in the boat which he totally did not mind.

“You’re going to _love_ Kilokilo,” said Amalea. “It’s the biggest and greatest Magical Center in the world.”

“It’s better than Diagon Alley,” said Hermione.

Amalea snorted. “Diagonally.”

“Don’t hate,” said Cedric. “Diagon Alley is great!”

“You’ll see,” said Hermione. “It’s amazing and I’ve seen three magical centers so… I have better judgement.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” said Cedric, coughing out, “Bias!”

“It’s not bias,” she said, crossing her arms and scooting an inch away so she could look at him. “It’s research.”

“Bias,” he sang. “You are biased because you don’t like Britain and weren’t born there so you have no loyalty to it.”

“If I were biased based on where I was born then I would think Luesma is the greatest,” she said. “And in five minutes you will see I’m right.”

“We’ll see,” he said, scooting an inch closer. He thought about making a bet on it but he _really_ didn’t want to risk losing. Besides, what would he bet? He didn’t have anything except her, his cat, and his backpack. All very good things to have and nothing he wanted to risk even as a joke.

Hermione watched his reaction as they came upon jagged rocks, went through the tunnel, and entered the inactive volcano.

“Whoa…” he breathed, taking in the city.

“Must be a slow market day,” Hana commented.

“Slow?!” Cedric squawked. “There must be hundreds of people up there.”

“It is midday,” said Hermione. “Most of them are probably at lunch.”

Hana parked the boat amongst the others and they crowded out onto the docks. Hermione held onto Cedric tightly until they were on solid ground and then she just walked behind him with her hand on his shoulder so they weren’t blocking the way. The spaces were narrow, taken up by stalls of people selling their wares.

“Hermy, if you and Cedric want to explore, Lea and I can just go ahead and go up to the shop,” said Hana. "I'll put you to work later."

“Okay,” said Hermione. “Sounds good.”

Cedric and Hermione slowed down to peruse while Hana and Amalea took the closest stairs to the next level. Hermione looked back with a grin.

“Do I have to say it?” he asked.

She thought for a minute. “Mm… no. Knowing is enough.” She took his hand and they moved along, exploring the wares. A dozen people sold jewelry, a dozen more sold clothes. There were people selling anything and everything. People who spoke five languages as they negotiated prices and people who spoke ten as they conversed with customers. People calling out, beckoning people to see what they were selling.

“Got a pretty girl there,” said one man to Cedric. “You know what every pretty girl needs? Some nice jewelry. Come and see the best jewelry in Kilokilo. You’re a handsome guy. Earrings for men are all the rage.”

“Don’t speak to them, they’ll pull you in,” Hermione warned. “We look, but don’t talk. Everyone here is good at selling.”

“I believe it,” he said, noticing full shopping bags from passersby. He paused and heard something. Music. Furrowing his brow, he took Hermione’s hand and followed it to a stall selling baskets.

A woman was sitting on a stool, her nimble fingers weaving as she talked to a customer about prices. Sitting at her feet was a bright orange boombox with white designs and white speakers. Some rock song was blaring from the speakers.

“It’s one of my radios!” he said happily and looked at Hermione.

“ _Your_ radio?” said the woman in the stall. “Nuh-uh. This is mine. I paid for it and I’m not selling.”

“No, no, no, you misunderstand,” said Cedric. “I made it. On the bottom it says C.D. Products.”

Raising an eyebrow, the woman stopped her weaving and turned the boombox over to see Cedric’s stamp.

“Oh!” she said. “Shit, man, you did make it! I love this thing. I ordered it at the Quidditch World Cup last year. A few of my friends started ordering.”

“Yeah, I think I filled about twelve for this side of the world,” said Cedric. “I didn’t realize you all worked in Kilokilo.”

“You make the radios?” A guy two stalls down shouted.

“Sure did!” said Cedric cheerfully.

The guy left his booth and stormed towards him, Hermione got between them and drew her wand. This shop owner was almost as tall as her, but his anger was bigger.

“I ordered my radio months ago!” he said, pointing his finger in Cedric’s face. “I got a notice back saying wait time was three months. It’s been four!”

“I sent out more notices apologizing for future delays,” said Cedric calmly. “Production has been a little… slow.”

“Slow? Why?”

“My staff size has reduced by half.”

“So how many people you got?” he demanded.

“Well, I got this hand,” said Cedric, holding up his left hand. “But not this one.” He gestured to his right. “So you can imagine the amount of pressure I’m under.”

Hermione snorted and leaned against the counter trying not to laugh. The man paled.

“Uhh… it’s only you?”

“Yeah,” said Cedric. “I have the patent, but that means no one else will pay me so they can produce them for me, and I don’t have any employees. However, I can offer a full refund.” He dug his coin bag out of the side pocket of his backpack. “May I have your order number please?”

“Uhh… know what?” he said and clapped his hands together awkwardly as he backed away to his stall. “Take your time. I’ll just strain to hear Tia’s music even though she has crappy taste.”

Tia gave him the finger and picked up her weaving.

Cedric felt the pity from those who saw the exchange and felt a little sick from it. Hermione noticed his expression and wrapped an arm around him, moving on to where the food was. They had all sorts of things and he was able to forget about what happened. Many people were gathering various dishes and taking them to an eating area full of tables. Tourists in Hawaiian shirts, men in business suits, and witches and wizards dressed in work robes were eating the fair, some taking their time and others scarfing down their food.

One person selling roasted veggies on a stick had a radio playing music from a local station. Cedric was about to comment then became distracted by the more… interesting selection of food. A man was selling _scorpions_ on a stick. A woman was standing beside it and plucking off pieces of the creature, examining it before eating it. He liked to think of himself as someone willing to try anything, but this was too much.

“You okay?” Hermione asked, following his gaze. “Oh. Ew.”

“That woman is just thoroughly enjoying that,” he said, fascinated. “Is she just at home and she sees a spider and goes, ‘you know I have this lovely croissant, but I’ll save that for later and have this now.’”

“Cedric, that’s rude,” Hermione said, trying to look stern before bursting into giggles. “Are you hungry?”

“Surprisingly, yes. Cereal didn’t quite cut it.”

Hermione smiled. “You get us a seat, I’ll get the food. Are you willing to compromise your aversion to Khinzer for this?”

“I’m not entirely against pork,” said Cedric. “I just don’t eat it often and jidha doesn't eat it for religious reasons. If whatever you think is good, or sounds good, contains pork, I’ll eat it.”

“Okay, good,” she said, kissing his cheek.

He made his way over to the tables and took a seat, looking up at the clear blue sky. Birds flocked around the opening of the volcano and really showed how big the space was. Up where the house-like buildings were, he could see gardens and plants spilling out over the roofs. On the water, the rocks slid open allowing a large ship to leave and a fishing boat to enter.

Hermione returned with containers and two fizzy bottles with the name of the drink printed in Korean.

“What did you get?” he asked, mouth watering at the smell.

“Dim sum,” she said, opening one of the containers to show him a selection of dumplings. “As well as fire-roasted veggies and kushikatsu. It looks like zucchini, peppers, some type of root, mushroom, and I’m certain that’s onion, and the kushikatsu is fried meat. Ooh and you haven’t lived until you’ve tried Tom Yum. And, as a treat, _jajan pasar_ , which is Indonesian. This one is a rice thing covered with this insanely good Javanese syrup and I also got some Japanese mochi. I’ve never had mochi, but I hear it’s the number one treat in Japan. At least, that’s what the cart said."

Even split between them it was enough to sate his appetite.

“I can pay for half,” he offered, stuffing the last deep-fried potsticker in his mouth, enjoying the crunch of the wonton and the burst of juicy flavor from the filling.

“Hey, it’s the nineties,” she said, waving the peach mochi in the air. “Who says I can’t pay for a date?”

“True,” he replied with a shrug and chased his food down with the blue raspberry fizzy.

After depositing their trash in a bin, where it was immediately obliterated in a burst of flames, they moved on to the permanent shops. Clothing stores, book shops, shops advertising early Back-to-School sales, things like that. Hermione led him into the wand shop which was painted a beautiful shade of turquoise. A fresh coat if the smell was anything to go by.

The inside couldn’t have been more different from Ollivander’s with tidy floors, cases filled with wand holsters and ornate handles as well as canes to put a wand in. The neat rows of wands behind the counter were stacked high to the ceiling in cerulean boxes.

A young, dark-skinned witch carved wand handles while she managed the counter.

"G'day, I'm Alkina," she said without looking up. "Wand permits?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "My boyfriend here also needs to replace his wand.”

"Shit happens," she replied. "What was your previous wand?"

"12 1/4 inches, Ash, Unicorn hair," Cedric recited.

She hummed and eyed him up and down. "Ollivander wand?"

He nodded.

"Our materials are a little different here," she said. "But we'll find you something. May I see your hands?"

Confused, Cedric held it out, palm up. Without batting an eye Alkina ran her fingers over it. She stared him in the eyes for a long moment and then flicked his forehead.

"Don't read my mind," she said sharply.

"I— I wasn't trying to," he stammered. "Can't help it."

Alkina hummed again and tapped her nails against the counter top then drew her own wand and tapped it on Cedric's head. A clear sound, like a bell rang out and she nodded. Then, she measured his arm and his height and his hand.

"You have large hands," she said. "You know what they say about men with large hands."

"They wear large gloves," said Hermione, examining a wand holster made out of coconut hair fiber.

Cedric flushed.

"Hm… I have… three options for you," said Alkina at last. She disappeared in the back and returned with three wand boxes. It was an incredibly different process than Ollivander's. "This first one is Banksia, thirty-three centimeters, Granian hair core. Unyielding. The middle one is Willow Bottlebrush, twenty-nine centimeters, Pele-Pele heartstring. Bendable. This one on the end is very special. I try it for many witches and so far only five have one like it. This one is a mix of Illawarra and the horn of an Antipodean Opaleye. The core is an occamy feather."

Cedric tried the first two wands and found that they were good but didn't feel quite right. He shook his head and placed the middle one back. Alkina handed him the last wand. It was twelve-and-a-half inches and absolutely beautiful. The shaft was white, entwined with the opalescent horn of the New Zealand dragon. The curved handle was painted a startling red and fit perfectly into his hand. He ran a thumb over the grooves making up the runes. Something just felt right about it.

"It's perfect for you," said Hermione.

He looked over and saw her staring at him through her star eye, the brown one covered by her hand.

"Your magical signatures are exactly the same," she continued. "They resonate at the same frequency and they’re the same color."

"I think you were made for each other," said Alkina, whisking away the other wands and putting them back in their proper places. "That will be seven galleons. Ten more sickles and we'll throw in a wand holster of your choosing."

Cedric dug into his backpack side pocket and retrieved the velvet bag that held his money. It had three compartments for galleons, sickles, and knuts. He set it on the counter, fished out the galleons, and paused.

"Instead of the ten sickles for the basic holster how about a trade for a better one?" he suggested.

"What do you have that I want?" Alkina asked.

Cedric produced a bright yellow portable radio (the order had been cancelled) and adjusted the knob before switching it on. When music played from a local station, the witch's eyes brightened up.

"Deal!" she said, taking it from him and swiping the galleons into a register. "I saw several of these and I wanted one. Pick any holster you like."

Smiling, he perused the wall.

"I'd get one that disappears on your person," Alkina recommended. "Rather easy to wear in front of No-Majs."

He nodded and picked one, Hermione strapped it to his arm; he watched as it seemed to melt into his skin. He eased his wand into it, handle first. The directions said to summon it all he had to do was flick his wrist. He tried it out and the wand slid perfectly into his hand. Another flick and it was back in.

"That's brilliant," said Hermione. "I think I'll get one too. Don't get me wrong, I like the one you got me but this one disappears."

"No charge," said Alkina, playing with the stations on her new radio.

"Mahalo plenty," Hermione replied.

After filling out their wand permits, Cedric had difficulty getting the paper to stop shifting as he wrote. They then headed to Hana’s shop.

“Oh, before we lose the chance,” said Cedric. “There’s something I want to do.”

“Sure, anything,” said Hermione.

Cedric rested his hand on her waist and kissed her. She linked her fingers behind his neck as she kissed him back, her shyness about PDA dissipating. They pulled away at the same time. Hermione smiled and took his hand in hers.

Hana and Amalea were waiting for them, expectantly.

“Cedric, a letter came in for you,” she said, plucking the envelope off the counter.

“Really?” Cedric took it and found only his name on the front and a gold seal on the back with the imprint of a bird with characters on the belly. Each line looked to be a different language. Perhaps a translation of the same phrase.

Perplexed, he placed it on the counter and worked his forefinger into the space of the flap, pinching it between his finger and his thumb, and, pushing up with his middle finger, tore the seal. He worked the letter out and paled when he saw the stamp of the Ministry of East Asia and Polynesia on the bottom. Shaking slightly, he read the letter out loud.

_Dear Mr. Diggory,_

_We heard you were visiting Kilokilo and decided to send this letter to you right away. Last year, at the Quidditch World Cup, one of our Department Heads noticed that you had adapted a portable radio for use around wizards without worry of its combustion due to large quantities of magic._

_This has not gone unnoticed and we would like to conduct an interview with you this coming Friday at 1100 (HST) should you still be in town. We are interested in your work and will be opening a new department specifically for people like you with your ideas of modernizing the wizarding world. We are reaching out all over the world for witches such as you._

_We understand if you have already been hired by your Ministry, but would like to conduct the interview regardless._

_Included in this letter is what you will need to bring to this interview as well as the address of where your interview will be conducted. Should you fail to meet these requirements, you may be turned away._

_Sincerely,_

_Takenaka Rio_

_Co-Director of the Department of the Adaptation of Non-Magical Artifacts_

Cedric’s jaw dropped.

“They want to hire you!” Hermione exclaimed. She clapped her hands then hugged Cedric. “Ooh! I knew someone would have to see your ingenuity! I just knew it!”

“I… I wonder if they know of my lycanthropy,” he said dumbly. “What should I bring? What should I wear?”

Hermione looked at the accompanying page.

“Please wear business attire appropriate for your country,” she read, “Please bring a resumé and a sample of your work. Written study is acceptable but a physical representation is preferred. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.”

“That’s amazing news, Cedric,” said Hana. “Don’t you worry, we’ll get you a business suit.” She grabbed a scrap of paper out of the front desk drawer and scribbled out an address. “Go on and get your measurements taken. I know the owner. Unless… you already have a business suit?”

Cedric shook his head and took the paper.

“I’ll go with you,” Hermione volunteered. “And I can help you write a resumé.”

“You should also get a haircut,” Hana added. “There’s a place back home you can get that done.”

Cedric nodded and let himself be dragged along by Hermione. He could just hardly believe it. Someone wanted to hire him! If he was hired, he wouldn’t have to worry about finding a job after school. He felt a small weight lift off his shoulders before immediately being replaced by the fear that they wouldn’t want to hire him if they found out about his lycanthropy.

Still, he didn’t voice these concerns and let Hermione fuss over him as they picked a suit that Hana bartered a few potions for. Apparently it was some type of linen-wool blend so it was lightweight for warm climates but didn’t wrinkle. He’d never had a fully linen suit so he wasn’t sure why wrinkles were a problem.

The tailor suggested the cool gray color which Hermione said brought out his eyes. There was slight pause over his arm but the man talked about adding a button to the shoulder so the sleeve wouldn’t flop around awkwardly.

The suit would be ready by Thursday and delivered to Hermione’s house.

~o0o~

Friday approached quickly and Cedric was wholly nervous. Hermione quizzed him on potential interview questions she’d read about in a magazine along with questions he would ask the interviewer. They went over his resumé which was more like listing his achievements since the only job he’d had was the farm. Hermione put it down as retail since he dealt with sales of the eggs, milk, and wool. Hana told him about proper protocol with the East Asian Ministry.

He got his hair cut short again and Tavi combed it into a neat ‘do.

“I am so proud of you,” she said, patting his cheek. “I am cooking your favorite meal tonight. Shakshouka. I can get the ingredients at the Kilokilo market.”

“What if I don’t get the job?” he fretted.

“Then it will be a sympathy meal,” she reasoned.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Hermione asked.

“No, I’m fine,” he said and dug the mirror out of his pocket. “I’ll call you if I need you.”

“Okay,” she said and placed a hand on his knee. “Stop shaking. You’ll be brilliant. You have your papers, you have a boombox, you look super hot. Lea and I are baking cookies so you can have some when it’s over. You got this!”

She put her headphones over his ears and pressed play. He chuckled at the selection.

“Is it Dolly Parton again?” she asked.

He nodded and clipped the Walkman to his belt without changing the song choice.

“You got this,” Hermione repeated, kissing him and giving him two thumbs up.

Cedric smiled, feeling more confident and drew his wand, apparating to Kilokilo with barely a sound. He appeared on a special dock where other people apparated and followed the directions to the building where his interview was going to be conducted.

Kilokilo was as bustling as ever. Cedric hurried up the sturdy wooden stairs past the vendors and shops to a level he hadn't been to. In the steep, arena-like city, whenever he looked over the railing he felt a wave of nausea and the shaky feeling of standing too close to the edge of a cliff.

He arrived at a building that was still made of wood like all the others but had a more modern architecture to it. When he entered, the inside was definitely more modern considering the speckled teal vinyl floors, the uncomfortable scratchy cushioned, navy blue, brown wood chairs all attached in three rows of four; a low, wooden table was stacked with magazines. The receptionist sat behind a white desk that seemed to be molded out of the same stuff as the floor and had the logo of the company stuck on it in steel. Ten little gold chutes lined up on her left and memos would run out in the shapes of animals. It seemed each one held a specific type of memo.

Cedric took a few deep breaths and approached the receptionist. She held up a finger before he could speak and finished typing something on her typewriter.

"How can I help you?" she asked, removing her reading glasses.

"I'm Cedric Diggory," he said. "I'm here to see— well, I wasn't told who exactly I was meeting with, but it was from a Takenaka Rio." He dug into his pocket and produced the letter.

She took it from him, waved her wand over it, and handed it back. Pushing off with her feet, she rolled her chair back and pulled a receiver off the wall. She said something in Japanese, paused for a response, and hung up.

"Please, wait there," she said, gesturing to the seating area.

Cedric sat down and tried to slow his breathing as he stuffed the Walkman into his backpack. It wasn’t formal, but he just felt too anxious without it. Like a security blanket.

Two minutes later, a man who hardly looked older than him, entered through a glass door.

"Diggory?"

"Yes."

"Please, follow me."

Cedric stood up and followed him through the hallways and up a lift. Soon enough they entered a conference room with a long square table seating twelve. Eight of the seats were filled with 5 witches and 3 wizards around his age. The oldest was probably about twenty-three. Four of them seemed to be already associated with the Ministry being Japanese, Korean, Thai, and Chinese respectively, though their nervous energy came off in waves. One witch was Indian and she kept twisting the end of her braid; another was from Zimbabwe, and she dressed in a dark business suit, but her hair was in a red, boldly patterned dhuku; one wizard was white and seemed to spend a lot of time in the sun, his sandy blonde hair was combed into some semblance of tidiness, and the final wizard was mixed and seemed fixated on his watch or tugging on the sleeves of his black suit. Cedric took the closest empty chair and sat down, hoping desperately that he was not the last to arrive.

"Mr. Matsumoto will be here in a moment," said the man who led Cedric there.

Shit. He was the last to arrive.

They all sat in anxiety-induced silence, thumbing through portfolios or bags containing objects. Thirty minutes later, a man with greying hair, dressed in what looked like a cross between a navy pinstriped suit and robes, entered the room.

"Good morning," he said. "I am pleased to have been able to gather all of you here. Please, remind me of your names?"

Running high on anxiety, Cedric abruptly stood up and bowed slightly hoping that his voice wasn't too high pitched as he introduced himself. Mr. Matsumoto bowed in return and offered a smile.

The Australian wizard was Trevor Robertson. Jared Lyndon was an American. The Indian witch was Roshan Nibhanupudi. The Zimbabwean witch was Kayan Ayodele. The other witches were Fan Ming, Takara Fukui, and Ho Chi-Un; the wizard was Satayu Lam.

Mr. Matsumoto sat at the head of the table. He cast a spell with a wave of his wand and began to speak in Japanese. Yet Cedric understood perfectly because the spell created subtitles in English, Hindi, and what was probably Xhosa, though Cedric had only seen the language in passing. He would have to find that spell for Esperanza so she wouldn’t have to be so lost at a dinner table.

"All of you were brought here because each of you have shown ingenuity and innovation," he said. "My company is a branch of the East Asian Ministry of Magic and our goal is to bridge the gap between the wizard world and the non-wizard world. To start, I would like each of you to show what you have done and we will move on to individual interviews from there."

It was amazing to see that he wasn't the only one who wanted to bring technology to the wizard world so that they could blend in more easily with the Muggle world. Cedric itched to take notes on the various appliances or theoretically possible ideas. On his turn, he pulled out the Walkman.

"Er— I adapted portable radios, communication radios, and Walkmans to work even under high concentrations of magic." Hermione's words. "I have used this particular device at school and on an underground metro in London. Nobody noticed any difference and it works fine in either place so long as I adjust the knob on the back accordingly so the elestial quartz vibrates at different frequencies to compensate for the amount of magic in the air. I've sold several dozen radios, boomboxes, or Walkmans so far and I have a patent for it through the Ministry of Magic in Britain."

Nervously, he held up one of his first radios and switched it on, tuning it to the closest radio station. He decided not to mention the arithmantic spells involved in each quartz to make them refract equally with each other to create energy like an endless battery. Runes could only take him so far and Arithmancy took him the rest of the way.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Trevor muttered.

"Thank you, Mr. Diggory," said Mr. Matsumoto.

Once it was all said and done, Mr. Matsumoto stood up and gestured for Kayan Ayodele to follow him for the individual interview portion.

"Why do you think they're interviewing us?" asked Trevor. "I mean, they need all of us for this kind of thing, yeah?"

"Maybe it's so they know what work environment to put us in," said Roshan. "It doesn't do anyone good if we cannot work together."

"I'm just glad I'm not the only one who wants to do this," said Cedric.

Kayan returned ten minutes later looking rather happy.

"Diggory is next," she said.

Cedric quickly got to his feet and brought his things with him. This one was conducted in Mr. Matsumoto's office. It was small and minimalist, the high windows overlooked KiloKilo and a plant sat nearby. On the desk was a pendulum that swung around and around and around and around…. The man gestured for Cedric to sit, so he did.

"You are currently enrolled at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, yes?"

"Yes, sir," said Cedric trying not to look at the pendulum and failing.

"I have asked for your transcripts," Mr. Matsumoto continued, glancing down at a piece of parchment. "Your Head of House, Professor Sprout, spoke highly of you in her letter of recommendation we requested as well. She said you are a model student."

"I try to be, sir."

"Loyal, honest, hard-working, and a team player is how she described you," he said. "All qualities that I am looking for my team. What are you working on now?"

Feeling a bit more comfortable with the praise, Cedric took out his notebook and opened it up to the proper page.

"My N.E.W.T.s project," he said. "I am working on adapting a television for more immediate news broadcasting than just the paper. I read all about how muggles—No-Majs began reacting to news when it was right there for them to witness rather than just reading about it. For many it was an eye opener to what the world is like. Though … I suppose it would be better to start with transmission wouldn't it? Still, it is the next step to a computer and imagine what wizards could do if we had instant communication beyond floo or… post.” Ugh, he was rambling like an idiot.

"That is what this company is about," said Mr. Matsumoto. "Tell me, what drew you to this in the first place?"

"Well, when I was a kid I made friends with a girl who I thought was a muggle— er— she's a witch and now my girlfriend," he said. "Not that that matters at the moment— er— she wasn't allowed to come over to my house because it wouldn't look like a regular household. I got to thinking that if we had some of the things she had as a muggle — No-Maj— then we could keep being friends instead of having to lie about why I can't have a toaster or electric stove in my house or why we don't have modern light fixtures. She was the one who suggested I start with the radios.”

"You've done well," said Mr. Matsumoto. "When I hire employees the minimum requirement of education is your N.E.W.T.s in as many subjects as possible. We prefer a complete education over here."

"Yes, sir," said Cedric. Dumbledore was sure to let him back to finish his school year.

"You and your co-workers will be starting with a salary of 2,000 galleons a year, four weeks paid vacation which you can start to accumulate after thirty days, and you will be living in the same apartment complex as your co-workers. It is easier that way and it is paid for by the company. We ask you stay one year before finding new home arrangements. I would suggest learning Japanese and Chinese now, but English is spoken in several departments."

"I suppose French and Spanish won't be helpful," said Cedric with a weak laugh.

"Perhaps, in the future, but you can find several books and tapes," said Mr. Matsumoto. He opened up a folder and handed Cedric a contract of employment. "Look this over and you can make changes or simply sign it and send it back by post. Once you graduate, we will look over it once more and then you will come to work for us."

"So… I have the job?"

Mr. Matsumoto stared at him a moment and nodded as if it were obvious. "…Yes."

Cedric took the contract and fought the urge to sign it then and there.

"One more thing. Any and all illnesses do not have to be disclosed as per company policy created by our human resources department."

"Thank you, sir." Cedric stood up and bowed.

"Please send in Fukui Takara," said Mr. Matsumoto.

"Yes, sir."

After letting Takara know she was up next, Cedric left feeling a lot lighter than he had in awhile. It would seem that he had a future after all. Knowing that in just one year he would be off with a future was comforting. He had hoped it would be in England, but werewolves can't be choosers. Especially when opportunity had knocked down his door with a battering ram.

Cedric left the building and pumped his fist in the air.

“YES!” he shouted. “WHOO!”

Kayan Ayodele was nearby doing a happy dance, she looked over and grinned.

“You too?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Kayan, right?”

“That’s right,” she said. “Looks like we are co-workers now. Starting in two months.”

“Looks like it,” said Cedric. “Well, I’ve still got a year of school left.”

“You are still in school?” Kayan asked, looking surprised. “If you are still in school why do you look like you came through a war zone?”

“I got in a fight with a Chimaera and won,” he said flatly. “See you ‘round, Kayan.”

He went down to the apparition dock and went home.

ABBA was blasting in the kitchen and Hermione and Amalea were singing as they baked cookies. Cedric inhaled deeply then put on a neutral expression. He entered the kitchen and tugged on his tie to loosen it.

Hermione noticed him first and beamed.

“Hey,” she said, taking his hand and dancing with him. “How did it go? You were gone for a long time.”

“Well,” said Cedric.

She faltered and furrowed her brow. “What?”

“They gave me this." He slid his backpack onto the chair and pulled out the contract. He gave it to her and Amalea turned down the music.

Hermione skimmed the contract and lit up. “They hired you?!”

He broke into a grin and nodded. “I just have to look over that contract, sign it, and send it back to them. Can you look over it for me?”

“Yes!” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. “I’m so happy for you!”

Cedric laughed and lifted her off her feet. Amalea whooped and turned up _Dancing Queen_ . Hermione gave Tavi the contract to put in a safe place until she could look it over. The four of them danced around the kitchen and finished baking the cookies; chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies, and they were _so_ good.

The teens took a plate of the cookies into the living room and settled onto the couch to watch a movie.

Hermione was radiating joy for him, that someone saw his skill and snatched him up without him having to fight to prove himself.

He was rather relieved himself. He had hope. This time next year, he would be living in Japan, doing what he loved, and working with people who thought like him.

That evening, he announced to Hana and Manuia that he got the job and they were thrilled for him.

“Oh, I saw a flyer today that I thought might interest you, Hermy,” said Hana.

“Yeah?”

 

“On July 19th and 20th, Kilokilo is hosting Heiva and Koloa Plantation Days’ festival,” she said. “Amalea is competing with Uluru’s hula class, but there’s also going to be an open dance competition for amateurs. We’re planning on going, but I thought you might be interested in competing. I can sign you up tomorrow.”

 

“Oh, Heiva and Plantation Day is great,” said Amalea. “There’s lots of dancing and food. Too bad you’re going to D.R. before the mud slinging festival.”

Hermione lit up and looked at Cedric. “We should enter together. The dance contest, not the mud festival.”

“What?” he raised his eyebrows. “I… no. I can’t.”

“I’ve seen you dance,” she said. “We danced together loads of times.”

“Well, things are different now,” he said.

“You’ve got two legs and two feet. Your left hand is just fine.”

“But what about my right hand?” he said. “That prosthetic doesn’t work.”

Hermione stared at him, the thought to prove him wrong getting stuck in her mind. He could see all of the moves she knew would work flash in her mind, too fast for him to memorize. She threw down her napkin on her plate and looked at her father.

“Papá, may I move the coffee table?” she asked.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Once you prove you’re right, you can use the restaurant stage in the mornings for practice. We only get regulars in the mornings.”

“Gracias, Papá,” she said and stood up to get her music. When she left, Manuia turned to Cedric.

“I’m sure you know that once she gets an idea stuck in her head, she’ll see it through,” he said.

Cedric nodded.

“Don’t fight it, actually try,” he continued. “Whether she’s right or wrong, she’ll accept it, but not if you flake out.”

Cedric nodded again and minutes later heard the scraping of the coffee table and the clack of Hermione’s dancing shoes. Of course, she brought them with her. She loved those silver dancing shoes.

“Okay,” Hermione called. “I’m ready.”

Cedric stood up and entered the living room. Manuia, Amalea, and Hana crowded at the breakfast bar to watch. Hermione stood in the center of the room with her arms crossed.

“Do I need my shoes?” he asked.

“No, I won’t step on your feet,” she said and pressed play. “First position.”

He took her right hand in his left and looked at his right arm.

“Just pretend it’s on my waist,” she said. “Just an extension.”

He nodded.

“Five, six, seven, eight,” she said, projecting the moves to him and counting them out.

When it came to a lift, she pressed her hands on his shoulders to effortlessly push herself into the air, using a small bit of magic to do so. They spun out and she spun back in.

“And it doesn’t have to be salsa,” she said, stepping away to pause the music. “It could be samba, mambo, ballroom, rumba, ooh! We should do a hip-hop fusion; you can move, farm boy. You weren’t like those other boys where they’re all rigid and have a lot of teeth.” She demonstrated, making him laugh. “And they thought they were doing their dates a favor. Viktor wasn’t too good at dancing but at least he knew it and rolled with it. You can get loose."

“How’d Viktor dance?” Amalea asked.

“Oh, I’m not gonna make fun of him,” said Hermione. “He just danced like he never danced to rock music before and didn’t know what to do.”

“He was great at ballroom though,” said Cedric. “That’s the trouble with purebloods who are raised traditionally. Never learn how to have fun, not even dancing for fun. And Viktor went to a strict school as I’m sure you could tell.”

“Yeah,” said Manuia. “You two sure seemed to have fun though. When, you know, your lives weren’t in danger.”

“I think you two would have been friends sooner if he wasn’t so jealous,” said Hermione.

“Why would he be jealous of Cedric?” Amalea asked. “He’s totally rich and famous.”

“He thought Esperanza was dating Cedric,” Hermione replied. “Esperanza was teaching Cedric the Castelobruxo dances so he could, quite literally, sweep me off my feet, and Viktor saw them when he was trying to ask her to the ball. So, he asked me because he knew we were just friends and I wasn’t cuckoo nutty nuts.” She paused. “About male celebrities. I’m cuckoo nutty nuts in other ways. I went bonkers when I met Selena." She sighed. “Selena…”

“Yes, but it all worked out,” said Cedric. “Hermione put Viktor and Esperanza under the mistletoe and I literally swept Mimi off her feet.” He wrapped his left arm around her waist and spun her around.

She laughed and looked at her parents. “It wasn’t that smooth. We danced, yes, but Viktor and I went to get “punch” which is where he asked if Esperanza was dating Cedric and I told him no and set them up, and then my feet started hurting so I found Harry, Cho, and Ron to sit down. Then, Ron went ballistic and implied that I was snogging and… other things with multiple boys. So I slapped him and stormed into the gardens to cool off. Cedric found me, we eavesdropped on two wizard nazis and two half-giants, then we went back inside and he asked me to be his date for the rest of the evening. Then we danced, then he went to give Harry a hint about the second task.”

“When I came back, we decided to sit,” Cedric added.

“And when a song was playing, Cedric told me how I felt about him.”

“Did you kiss?” Amalea asked, hugging Crookshanks and smiling dreamily as she listened to the story.

“She laughed,” said Cedric.

“Herminia!” Manuia gasped. “You don’t laugh when a boy tells you he likes you! It makes him feel like an idiot! You are just like your mother.”

“I felt like an idiot,” Cedric deadpanned. “I was ready to run out of there and hide in my dorm for the rest of my life.”

“I laughed because _I_ felt stupid,” said Hermione. “All of the signs were there that he liked me and I even pointed all of them out one day, but it was in regards to Zaza and Viktor! We’d felt the same about each other for months, we could have gone to the Yule Ball together in the first place, and just…” She threw her hands in the air. “I had convinced myself it wouldn’t happen so I didn’t see it.”

“And you’re together now,” said Hana, fully entering the living room, taking her husband with her. “Show me those steps again.”

Hermione grinned and started the tape over. Cedric didn’t mind and actually had fun dancing. Amalea had lost Crookshanks, so she was dancing around with an unamused Belle.

“Will you dance in the contest with me?” Hermione asked. She was making her eyes bigger and doing that little half-smile of hers to try and lure him in.

It worked better than any veela or siren song.

“Yeah,” he said. “Okay.”


	5. Chapter 5

**** Hermione was super excited about the contest and had outlined a couple potential routines, ultimately deciding on hip-hop/salsa fusion. She could tell Cedric still wasn’t sleeping well, but he wasn’t crying out in his sleep anymore. He still didn’t want to talk about his nightmares and he refused to wear the prosthetic after he tried wearing it for dancing and it became stuck around her wrist for three hours.

Cedric’s first transformation where he would be fully aware was near. He had been taking the potions leading up to it, but that night it would finally take place.

“So,” said Hana. “We’ll just be locking you in the guest bedroom on this floor.”

“Won’t that be dangerous?” he asked. “For you?”

“No,” said Hana. “You’ll be too high and you won’t want to hurt us anyway because the potion lets you keep your mind.”

“I know but what if something happens?” he asked. “What if I have a bad reaction or it doesn’t work for me for some reason? I don’t want to hurt any of you, surely there’d be a better place to lock me up.”

“There is always the garage,” said Tavi quietly.

“Yes!” said Cedric. “The garage. And then you can just reinforce the door or, better yet, park the car in front of it!”

“Cedric,” said Hermione, resting her hand on his knee. “I trust Hana and her potion skills.”

She truly believed everything would be okay and she had no fear towards him. No, she was afraid  _ for _ him. Afraid of how much this will hurt him. Wishing she could be there with him, to hold him tightly when his transformation was complete.

“I would still feel better if I wasn’t so close,” he said.

“If you really feel that way,” said Hana. “I’ll get the garage ready. Hermione, get your wand so we can clean it up. Amalea, grab some blankets and a bowl for water.”

The three of them got to work. Hermione kissed Cedric’s temple and drew her wand, leaving with Hana through the front door while Amalea went to the linen closet in the guest bedroom. He was scared to look into their heads and see what they really thought of this.

He wasn’t much use with the preparations, all of his energy drained away just with unloading and loading the dishwasher. For the first time, he felt like he had lycanthropy. Like he was diseased and something was coursing through his veins. It was similar to feeling germy when you were incredibly sick.

Belle jumped into his lap and meowed. She tried to cuddle with him at night, but when his nightmares struck he always ended up throwing her out of bed. She didn’t like that at all and had taken to just latching onto him during the day. Crookshanks was sitting on Manuia’s recliner and studying Cedric coolly.

Werewolves were once classified under the Beast category. Maybe he could read the cats' minds. Not breaking eye contact, Cedric tried very hard to connect with Crookshanks’s mind to see what he might be thinking. Crookshanks blinked slowly and looked away.

“Okay,” said Hermione, entering the house. “The garage is all clean and comfy so when the lunar clock tolls, we’ll bring you down there.”

As she made to sit beside him, Crookshanks mewed and fell back so he was sitting like a person.

“Oh, Crookie!” Hermione cooed, leaving Cedric and sitting on the ground with her legs tucked under her. “Is my big, baby boo sitting like a people? Aww!”

As Hermione buried her face in Crookshanks’s “fwuffy tummy” the cat sent a triumphant, smug look in Cedric’s direction. Cedric narrowed his eyes and settled back against the couch, gently stroking Belle’s soft fur. His cat purred loudly.

Amalea interrupted by throwing a cat toy into the middle of the room. Both cats jumped up and went after the jingly pink mouse.

Hermione sat back down next to Cedric and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Aren’t kitties just too cute?” she said. “I love when Crookshanks sits like a person does, it makes his tummy so fat.”

Oh… Crookshanks knew very well that if he did that Hermione would turn her attention to him. Clever cat. Belle seemed to be beyond such things. Maybe. How many times had she done something that tore him away from Hermione’s side due to sheer adorableness? They both had intelligent cats and perhaps jealous ones as well.

Too soon, the lunar clock rang out, able to be heard throughout the house. Manuia wasn’t home from work yet due to it being inventory night.

“I’ll give you the potion once we’re in there,” said Hana. “Now, if you don’t feel the effects right away don’t worry, it can take a bit to set in.”

The cats ran out the door as soon as it opened.

“Crookshanks!” Hermione cried. “Belle! Wait! You haven’t gone through official quarantine!”

She chased them down the steps and around the corner. Hana continued helping Cedric down the stairs. When they reached the garage, Hermione was standing there watching Belle and Crookshanks settle down on one of the blankets.

The garage was small, only big enough for their jeep and bicycles (with magically interchangeable sand-to-pavement wheels). The leaves and car drip had been cleaned up leaving behind only a faint smell of gas and they had set up a place for him to sleep, as if he could while under transformation.

“Alright,” said Hermione. “Guess the cats have decided to spend the night with you. Good, you won’t be alone.” She held out her arms. “Last hug.”

Cedric hugged her tightly and quietly breathed in the scent of her hair. She changed her shampoo from apple to vanilla and coconut. Apparently, coconut is what made her hair shiny.

Hermione kissed him gently and looked into his eyes.

“You’ll be okay,” she said. “I’ll see you first thing. Don’t worry, I’ll cut you some slack for not being available for rehearsal.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

“I knew you would.” She kissed him again and backed out of the garage.

Hana jumped and grabbed onto the garage handle, slowly pulling it down until it was closed. She locked it.

“Does Papá know he can’t park in the garage tonight?” Hermione asked.

“Uh… I’ll give him a call.”

“I’ll just wait out here.”

Cedric sighed and downed his potion, cringing at the woodsy, sweet, grassy flavor. It wasn’t pleasant but it also wasn’t entirely unpleasant. He couldn’t decide whether or not he liked it. He smacked his lips. Was that cardamom he detected?

He stowed the potion bottle away on a shelf and sat criss-cross on the floor, taking a deep breath. There was a distant rumble and a sharp gust of wind rattled the garage door. The thick smell of rain hit his senses.

If the moon didn’t shine… would he not transform?

As he pondered his limits, a cloud came over his head. His eyelids grew heavy and he became very interested in his hand. A couple of times he had to manually close his mouth. He laughed to himself. So that’s what cannabis did. With a smile he listened to the rain pounding loudly against the garage door. A resounding crack of thunder sent the cats into his lap.

His pleasant haze stopped short as all of his muscles contracted painfully and his skin prickled as if he were being swarmed with ants that suddenly decided to start biting and stinging.

Crookshanks and Belle took off and jumped on top of some boxes.

As his entire body stretched and reshaped, he writhed on the floor and raked newly sharpened nails on the concrete. A howl ripped through his throat, the transformation complete. Cedric staggered and realized that he was now trying to balance on three legs. And though it shouldn't have, he found this to be incredibly…  _ funny _ . The light and fizzy feeling in his brain returned and he slid onto his stomach completely in pain yet not even caring.

He lay in the same spot for hours not even moving when the part of the potion that made him high wore off. Crookshanks and Belle returned once more to his side, trying to purr his pain away. He did not receive the power to talk to them. Perhaps he was still too human. That was oddly comforting.

When the storm ebbed and moonlight returned, he stared at the light on the floor and willed it to go away, then began to count to see how high he could go. Anything than be trapped with his thoughts; Whispered words that chipped away at his self-esteem and resolve little by little. Things that could easily be denied but the more they rolled around in his mind the bigger the pit of doubt grew.

He used several expletives and grabbed for where his arm used to be. It itched so bad! How could something itch if it wasn't even there? Bloody phantom limb!

Finally, the moon set and the grey light of morning set in. Cedric closed his eyes, but was not prepared for the morning transformation back into a human. It began with a tingle, then a prickle, and all at once it was like hot wax poured down his spine and slid over the rest of his body. He cried out and the wolfish howl turned back into his human voice.

He fell limp onto the floor and curled up, not having the energy to stand. At least with the apogee moon, he was closer to humanoid form, so he didn’t ruin his shorts by sprouting a tail. If the moon was in perigee, then he would have been more wolf-like with the bushier tail and broader snout.

Belle meowed loudly and nuzzled his face.

“Help,” he whispered faintly.

The garage door opened and Hermione stood there in her running clothes and holding a drink container full of liquid that looked similar to those foamy, green protein shakes she always drank.

“Hey, farm boy,” she said softly, kneeling down and brushing his hair back. “Can you sit up at all?”

“I don’t know,” he croaked and sniffled. Everything hurt so bad. He might as well have been crucio’d again.

Hermione bit her lip and lifted his head, carefully pouring the potion into his mouth. It had been sweetened with some sort of fruit he couldn’t detect, but the consistency almost made him throw up. Still, he gulped it down and shuddered.

“Hold tight,” she said, wiping away the sheen of sweat on his brow with the corner of the blanket. “I’ll go get Papá.”

She tucked a balled up blanket under his head and ran off, the cats not too far behind her.

Everything hurt and he was hyperaware of every sound and smell. On the reflection of the jeep’s windshield the rays of dawn disappeared as a new storm formed. Cedric remembered Hermione telling him that Kauai was its own rainforest and rainforests came with, you guessed it,  _ rain _ . The garage became filled with the heavy scent and the roar of the waves became louder.

“I don’t think he can stand,” came Hermione’s voice.

She and Manuia entered the garage.

“Can you use levicorpus?” Manuia asked.

“I could try, but what if I drop him?”

“Good point.”

Manuia knelt down. “Sorry, kid. This’ll probably hurt.”

Cedric hissed and gasped in pain as Hermione’s dad picked him up.

It was already starting to rain, so Hermione cast the umbrella charm and walked backwards up the stairs to the house, holding her wand over their heads. By the time they entered the house, it was a full-on downpour.

Manuia set Cedric down on the couch and draped a blanket over him to keep him decent.

“Tavi,” said Manuia.

Tavi popped into the room and tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Master Cedric, look at the state of you.” She brushed his hair back and patted his cheek. “I will draw you a bath. I believe Mrs. Hana has some salts that will help and I will get you a change of clothes.”

When she left, Manuia nodded.

“Stole the words out of my mouth,” he said. “I’ve got to get to work. Herminia, you’re in charge, make sure your sister gets her butt up and cleans her room. Tavi!”

“Yes?” Tavi called.

“You are not allowed to clean Lea’s room for her.”

“Yes, sir!”

Manuia pressed his forehead to Hermione’s forehead, put on his raincoat, grabbed his wallet and keys, and left to go to work.

“Guess running is out,” said Hermione, kicking her shoes off by the front door. “Are you hungry, love?”

“Famished,” he croaked. “And thirsty.”

“Right.” She came in with a plastic cup of water with a straw sticking out. “Water comes first.”

He slurped it down through the straw but he might as well have been trying to drink with a mouthful of sand. He drained it, but it did nothing to quench his thirst.

“I think we’ve got cinnamon buns,” said Hermione absently.

Her mind was buzzing with a list of ways that she could help him feel better. She had no clue of the level of pain he was in, which made it harder. Eventually, she came to the conclusion of basil, lavender, and sea salt in a bath. Maybe Hana had a salve.

Cedric got a headache and turned his head to stop reading her mind. He was just so tired. Was it always going to be like this? Every single month for the rest of his life? The average wizard lived to 100 optimistically. So he would go through this 987 times.

821 if he used that one potion that kept the transformation at bay every six months like he was able to.

With the after-potion and the bath, Cedric physically felt better, but he’d been obsessing with the weight of life’s problems most of the morning and he was feeling horribly depressed.

Hermione was worried about him and if it weren’t raining, she would have stuck him outside in the sun. Get him Vitamin D. Instead, she had Tavi help her bring him upstairs and put him in her bed since he couldn’t bring himself to climb up the ladder to his bed.

Rather than leave right away, Hermione sat upright and stroked his hair while he lay on his side.

“How are you feeling?” she asked after a certain amount of time had passed.

“Just tired,” he sighed and rested his cheek against her thigh.

She hummed and looked up at the ceiling which was still depicting a rainy day. He really liked her set up.

“Do you like sleeping in a library?” he teased.

“It’s always been my dream,” she said.

“I rather like this,” he said. “You’ve got so much room and your bed is comfy.”

“I’m not trading rooms,” she said. “Maybe when you move to Japan you can get an apartment with a room like this.”

“I have to live in an assigned building for my probationary period,” he said, feeling a tad happier. That’s right, he was set after school.

“You’re brilliant at transfiguration,” she said. “Maybe you can just remodel it. I bet Maite, Ana, and Elisa would be more than happy to show you how.”

Cedric grinned.

“Are you going to be okay to dance?” she asked, concerned. “I hadn’t considered your transformation when I made you sign up. I can go solo.”

“As if!” he said, quoting the movie they saw a couple days ago. Maybe he wasn’t using it in the right context judging by her confusion. “I mean— I’m totally going to dance with you. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow. We’ve been practicing our butts off, a day or two won’t set me back.”

“Alright,” she said. “If you’re sure.”

“Positive,” he said. It was important to her and he loved basking in the joy dancing brought to her.

She lit up just thinking about dancing.

“What are you reading?” he asked. He couldn’t quite turn his head enough to read the title of her book. He could tell it was academic.

“A book.”

Cedric snorted and rolled onto his back. He had to grab onto a shelf to pull himself up into a sitting position. He grunted when his back cracked, but his spine instantly felt better. Exhaling slowly, he looked over his shoulder.

“Is it that the PTSD book?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. She was trying to be so careful.

_ Of course, he knew, he’s a mind reader, _ she thought and rolled her eyes. Well, he couldn’t really see any change in her star eye when she rolled it. Oh, she was holding up the book for him to see the title.

**The Absolute Animagus Almanac**

“Animagi can safely be in a room with a transformed werewolf,” she said, averting her eyes so he couldn’t find out why she knew that. “So… I figured if you’re going to be transforming every full moon for the rest of your life, then I can be there with you.” She cracked a smile. “At least until we can cure you by blowing up the moon.”

Cedric laughed and just looked at her in amazement. Becoming an animagus was not an easy thing to do and it could be painful or go wrong and she was willing to put up with the risks for him so he wouldn’t have to be alone. Overwhelmed, he kissed her.

Two seconds later a throat cleared and Cedric jumped back and looked over to find Hana looking at them sternly.

“Hola,” said Hermione awkwardly.

“Don’t ‘hola’ me,” she said, crossing her arms. “It’s not appropriate for you two to be like this and you’re lucky it was me who walked in and not Manny.”

“Hana, Cedric was resting and I was just keeping him company,” said Hermione. “We weren’t doing anything.”

Hana hummed. “I don’t care if Cedric wants to take a nap in your bed, but you better not be in the bed with him. Even if the door is open.”

“What if I just sit in my chair?” Hermione suggested.

Cedric said nothing, keeping eye contact with the picture of himself from the Yule Ball so he wouldn’t see what Hana was thinking. Picture-him was staring back with a what-the-hell-happened-to-you expression.

Rather than answer Hermione, Hana changed the subject.

“I heard from a friend that beginning transformations are always the most painful,” she said. “So I brought another potion. It’s only a half-dose but it should keep you up and about until bedtime.”

It was his cue to get the hell out of there. Joints aching, he crawled to the edge of the bed and swung his legs around so he was sitting down. Hana passed him a bottle filled with clear liquid.

“Drink up,” she said, twisting the cap off.

Cedric knocked it back and gagged. It burned his throat and reminded him of this cough syrup Mum bought from the store once.

“Herminia,” said Hana. “Come help me prep for dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Hermione.

“Did Amalea clean her room?”

“I stared her down until she started cleaning,” said Hermione with a shrug.

“Good enough.”

Cedric lay on his side not keen on getting up just yet. The clock on the wall claimed early afternoon and it didn’t quite feel it. Perhaps it was the dark weather outside.

After a half-hour of staring at the clock, Cedric once again began obsessing over the weight of life’s problems. He decided it was probably a good idea to get up and go downstairs. Honestly, he did feel a lot better and didn’t have any problems going down the stairs.

Amalea was watching MTV and Hermione was helping Hana and Tavi prep for some Korean dish. Hana always insisted on cooking something Korean or Japanese when it was her turn and alternated each time. Tavi looked to be mixing a sauce and Hermione was chopping vegetables.

“You have to chop them more evenly,” Hana said. “It cooks better that way.”

“I’m trying,” said Hermione. “It’s just hard getting straight angles.”

“I understand,” said Hana. “My mom still tells me I don’t chop things properly and I have to say ‘Mom! I’m thirty-seven! I can chop vegetables’.”

Hermione laughed. “When do I get to meet oehalmeoni and oehalabeoji again?”

Hana sighed. “My parents didn’t quite approve of me marrying a man who already had a child out of wedlock. They’re alright with Manny now…”

“I met them before though,” said Hermione. “When you were babysitting me.”

“Yes.”

“But you’re worried they might have changed their minds and treat me different than Lea?”

Hana nodded.

Hermione hummed and shrugged. “Eso si que es.”

“Hermy!” Amalea called. “They’re doing a segment on Selena!”

Hermione dropped the knife and ran into the living room, vaulting over the couch and landing in front of the TV to watch. Cedric chuckled and entered the kitchen.

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Hana. “Actually, my coworker, Pono, knows a guy who works with steel and he sells these things.”

She held up what looked like a steel taco.

“It helps you chop things with one hand,” she explained and rocked it back and forth over the onion Hermione was in the middle of chopping. “Like this.”

“Brill,” said Cedric, taking the tool and using it. It was nice to be useful again.

Someone knocked on the front door and Hana looked confused.

“Must be a lost tourist,” she muttered. “Can never ward against them. Amalea! Can you get the door, please?”

“I can’t, Hermy started crying!”

“I’ll get the door,” said Cedric, wiping his hand on a tea towel.

While a Selena interview rerun played, Hermione was indeed crying while her sister patted her back consolingly. What a tragedy. Selena was so young, too. Sighing lightly, Cedric opened the door to find an old man with grey hair and a mustache standing there in a linen suit, gripped in his hand was a gift bag.

“Oh,” said the old man. “I must have the wrong house.”

“Perhaps,” said Cedric, blocking his view of the interior. He had a hard time reading this man. Maybe it was the accent or this man was just so confused his mind went blank. “Can I help you?”

“I just thought that my son and his family lived here.”

“Perhaps they do,” he replied.

“Who is it?” Hana called.

“I’ll find out!” Cedric called back and turned to the old man. “Who are you?"

The old man took off his hat. “My name is Clarence. I found out that my son lives here with his family. My son’s name is Manny.”

“Uh-huh…” Cedric narrowed his eyes. “One second.” He closed the door and went to Hana. “It’s Manuia’s father.”

Hana pursed her lips. “Oh.”

“Do I let him in?”

“Might as well,” said Hana.

“Should I hide?” Tavi asked.

“Might be for the best.”

Tavi nodded and disappeared.

Cedric went back to the door and opened it up. “Come in.”

Clarence entered looking uncertain. Hermione had stopped crying, though her eyes were still moist, and was staring with interest. They didn’t seem to know this man, even Hermione had no recollection. Cedric was suspicious but sat down. He was getting lightheaded.

“You look like you came out of a war zone, son,” said Clarence, looking at Cedric through narrowed eyes. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“What happened to you?”

“I fought an alligator with my bare hands,” he deadpanned. “It wasn’t a fair fight, the alligator brought a knife.”

Hermione and Amalea cracked up. Hana entered the room and crossed her arms.

“Why are you here, Clarence?” she demanded.

“I’ve come to make amends,” he said.

“Well, Manny’s at the restaurant.”

“I know, but Dave wouldn’t let me in.”

“Shocker.”

Cedric’s eyes widened.

“I brought a gift,” Clarence continued. “For the girls. Kama told me you found Hermana.”

“It’s  _ Herminia _ ,” said Hana. “And that was last year.”

Hermione and Amalea exchanged looks. They had no idea why their mom was so hostile.

“Are you my grandfather?” Amalea asked.

“Technically,” said Hana.

Clarence held the gift bag aloft. Hana took it and set it on the couch without looking inside. Amalea got up and took the bag, but didn’t look inside, either.

“Tea, I think,” said Cedric, going into the kitchen. Out of view, he slid his wand out of its holster and twirled it, speed brewing and steeping some tea.

Hermione wasn’t too far behind.

_ “What’s this all about?” _ he whispered in Spanish.

_ “I don’t know,”  _ Hermione replied, placing four cookies on a plate then opening the fridge to get the milk. _ “I never really had grandfather figures, so it didn’t occur to me to ask if Papá’s father was still alive. I don’t see any pictures of him around the house.” _

_ “Should we call your papá?” _ Cedric asked.  _ “I could pop over.” _

Hermione glanced out into the living room and nodded.

_ “It’s looking crazy, stupid tense out there.” _

She lifted the tea tray and walked back out with Cedric.

_ “I’m going— _ er— I’m going outside,” Cedric declared.

“It’s raining,” said Clarence.

“Yeah.” Cedric ran out the front door and apparated into the back alley of Manny’s. He ran around to the front, instantly getting drenched from the rain which decided to pick up again.

“How many—oh, hi Ced,” said Kayla.

“Where’s Manuia?” he asked.

“Behind the counter.”

With the rain, the inside of the bar was loud and crowded. A live band was playing and people were drinking, eating, dancing, or chatting loudly to be heard over the din. Cedric felt unusually sensitive to it today and got an instant headache.

He pushed through the crowd and ducked behind the bar.

“Manuia!” he called.

The man jumped, nearly dropping the shaker for the drink he was mixing.

“What?” he asked. “What’s wrong? Is everyone alright? Should you be apparating in your condition?”

“I’m feeling much better than this morning,” he said. “But a man is at the house. Clarence… something. I don’t think he mentioned a last name."

Manuia’s eyes darkened. He set the shaker on the counter with a bang and led Cedric out through the kitchens to the break room.

“My father is at the house?” he growled. “Did you let him in?”

“Hana said to!” said Cedric, raising his hand defensively and shrinking back.

Manuia rubbed his forehead and sighed. “I’ve been avoiding this for a long time. Fine. Time to face the music.”

Dave ran in. “Manny, you alright? Some malihini started complaining that the bartender stopped serving her and it was bad service and that she’ll never return again.”

“I have more important things to worry about,” said Manuia. “My father is at my house! Cedric, hele on! Dave, you’re in charge.”

Cedric stuck close to him and dove into the car minding not to slow anything up.

The silence was awkward, the only sound being the rain and the wipers that were flying so fast, it was amazing they hadn’t fallen off, and yet did very little to clear the torrential rain. Manuia’s anger buzzed around the car like hornets as he hunched over the steering wheel. It was almost painful. Cedric stared out the window and tried to ignore his phantom limb pain.

"My father wasn't much better than yours, Cedric," said Manuia. "He abandoned me and my mom before I was born. Coasted by every few years with a gift and every time I hoped…" his voice broke. "I hoped it would be for good. Broke my mom's heart every time, so I usually took care of myself when she went on her soul-searching trips. I have no magic, so I didn't get to go with her and I didn't have a boarding school to house me."

"I'm sorry."

"Parents are supposed to set examples and sometimes those examples are ones you shouldn't follow. I always said that when I became a father I would keep my family together," he sighed. "I think I messed up with Herminia. I lost her… she probably thought she was abandoned."

"She actually always thought there was a reason for it," said Cedric, not sure if the truth would help. "So she didn't think about it too much, and we know now it wasn't on purpose. She loves you so much and when she got her memories back she thought of you. You're one of the best father figures I know, Manny. You're the number one Rent-a-Dad."

Manuia chuckled lightly, but his anger returned when they reached the house.

Manuia parked just outside the garage and stormed into the house. Cedric turned the car off, locked it, and tucked the keys into his pocket before following him.

Thankfully, the door was still unlocked.

"Hello, Manny," said Clarence. "It's been a while."

"Has it?" said Manuia coldly. "I hadn't noticed. I've been too busy taking care of my ohana."

Cedric used a drying charm and sat next to Hermione.

_ "He's been trying to make small talk with us,"  _ Hermione muttered.  _ "I don't like it, so I haven't said much. He keeps calling me Hermana." _

Cedric took her hand in his.

"Kids, why don't you go upstairs?" Hana suggested.

"When did that boy come in the picture?" Clarence asked.

"He's  _ Herminia's _ boyfriend," said Manuia.

"You'd let some strange boy into your house around your daughters?"

Cedric picked up the gift, hoping whatever was inside could be broken.

"Uh-uh. You don't get to act all righteous with me," Manuia snapped. "You ditched my mom when you found out about her magic and who suffered the most when you abandoned us? Me!"

Hermione ran up the stairs to get away from the shouting. She sat down at the top of the stairs and covered her ears.

"It's like Roger and Keith all over again," she moaned. "Now all he needs to do is call me a spastic. Though here I think it's retard… I hate those words."

"What's in the bag anyway?" Amalea asked uncomfortably.

Cedric removed a gaming console with games.

"I asked Mum for a Playstation for my birthday," said Amalea. "It's not out until September, so this'll be outdated by then."

"Think anyone will mind if I crack it open?" Cedric asked.

"Probably not," said Hermione, wincing at the raised voices downstairs. "Whoever is overseeing my life must really enjoy family confrontations and punching me in the face."

"You didn't get hurt today did you?" Cedric asked, alarmed.

"No, but I think it'll happen soon. Probably next time I go out."

"If life were anything like a book," said Amalea, "then it would probably happen for a specific reason."

"I don't want to think existentially," said Cedric.

"I'm going to go lie down," Hermione sighed. "I hate this."

Cedric and Amalea sat at the top of the stairs until Manuia made Clarence leave.

"I wait my entire life for that man to want to be a part of it," Manuia laughed humorlessly, "and now he thinks he can barge in with no apology? He's just scared of being alone. He shoulda thought of that before he abandoned me."

"You're right," said Hana.

"And where does he get off on telling  _ me _ how to be a dad? He couldn't be one if he tried!"

"Dear, is that why you got so attached to Cedric? He reminds you of yourself?"

"Well, the kid had a mom who cared about him," said Manuia, "but… yeah. When I saw that Amos guy abandon him at the Quidditch Cup for "work," I would have adopted him right there if he'd let me."

"Can't do that now."

"No, we can't, but he should have someone with life experience looking out for him. He's still a kid, Hana. Clarence just doesn't get our family and heaven forbid he find out Herminia was accidentally adopted when her identity was stolen from her! Can you imagine what he would say? Some people just can't mind their own business and just—urgh!" He snorted. "I gotta wash something."

"We still need to finish dinner," said Hana. "I'm making bibimbap. Why don't you help me with that? We'll call the kids down when it's ready."

"Yeah, I don't wanna let my pissy mood affect them. Besides, work isn't expecting me to return tonight. I'll call Dave later."

Cedric sighed through his nose. Every family had their problems, it seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dance contest will be a separate fic. I'll be adding my little drabbles and stuff relating to this story under the same group.


	6. Chapter 6

**** Hermione hugged her family goodbye outside the Kilokilo International Transportation Office. The boat had been sent home ages ago so they couldn’t take that and Hermione didn’t know how to fly it anyway. Tavi was talking with a House-Elf who was working at the office while Cedric picked up the Portkey they ordered a few days ago.

“You’ve got everything?” Manuia asked.

“Yes, Papá,” said Hermione.

“I wish you had chosen to go to Uluru instead of Castelobruxo,” said Amalea.

“I know,” said Hermione, giving her a side hug, “but I think Castelobruxo is best for me.”

“We’ll see you for Christmas,” said Hana, holding up her medallion. “Message us when you get to D.R.”

“Sure thing,” Hermione replied.

“Thank you,” said Cedric to the Portkey employee. He was holding a large sea shell and turned back to Hermione. “It’ll activate once we get to the Portkey platform. It’ll take us all the way to Luesma.”

“Alright,” said Hermione. “Got everything?”

“Yes,” he said. “In my backpack.”

“And I’ve got my things in my purse,” she said, patting it.

“I have everything,” said Tavi, lifting up her suitcase.

“You should really consider getting proper clothes,” said the store house-elf as he went back to organizing the shelf. “This isn’t Ancient Greece, you don’t have to wear a toga.”

Tavi flushed and tugged at her hem self-consciously before following Cedric and Hermione.

“If you’d like some clothes I bet Esperanza would be happy to make you some,” said Cedric.

“Oh, no!” said Tavi quickly. “It is okay.”

“If you say so,” he replied.

When they reached the transport pad (half of which was a landing pad with a row of trash cans lining the end) a witch was checking that everyone had their hands on the Portkey. As soon as they stepped on, they had thirty seconds to touch the Portkey or they would risk getting left behind. If a person was left behind, they were directed back to the Transportation Office.

“Next,” said the witch.

Hermione, Cedric, and Tavi stepped forward.

“Your thirty seconds begins now,” she said, hitting a stop watch.

Hermione, Cedric, and Tavi circled the shell, Hermione and Tavi putting a hand on top while Cedric held it.

“Five… four… three… two… one!”

A tug pulled at Hermione’s middle and they were suspended in mid-air and spinning wildly. Tavi was screaming as she gripped onto her suitcase and the shell for dear life.

It felt like an eternity before they appeared over a stone landing pad. Cedric let go and floated gently down while Hermione and Tavi landed hard. He helped Tavi to her feet since Hermione quickly rolled onto her own.

_ “Please get off the platform,” _ said a wizard _. “We have another Portkey arriving in a minute.” _

Hermione, Cedric, and Tavi hurried off the platform and sat down on a bench to catch their breath.

“The cats,” said Hermione, opening Cedric’s backpack to pull out the cat carriers.

Belle and Crookshanks moaned and meowed in irritation at the bumpy ride.

“I think we can rent a boat to get to the house,” said Hermione. “Or I can get a motorcycle with a sidecar.”

The next Portkey arrived and a couple floated down onto the platform arm-in-arm. Hermione lit up, recognizing them.

“Zaza! Viktor!” she shouted, waving her hand.

Esperanza grinned and ran off the platform to hug her cousin.

“I didn’t realize you were coming today!” said Hermione, meeting her halfway and hugging her tightly.

“Sí, Viktor got his time off approved for my sisters’ quinceañera,” she said. “How has your vacation been?”

“Oh, it was awesome,” said Hermione. “I can’t wait to show you the pictures. What about yours?”

“Well, Viktor and I spent some time together once he finished healing,” she said. “When he wasn’t working we went sightseeing. I did a little sightseeing by myself to get some inspiration. I’ll tell you more later. I’ll get us a boat.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Viktor, taking her hand.

Cedric leaned close to Hermione.

“Something happened,” he said. “Between them, I mean… not anything bad. But something.”

Hermione furrowed her brow. “You think?”

“Yeah, but as I said nothing bad."

Hermione hummed.

Esperanza and Viktor came back with keys and a slip of paper. “Are you okay to walk?”

Hermione and Cedric agreed and they walked down to the river where the boats were docked. Esperanza spoke to the man there and they got a speed boat that would be a tight squeeze for the four of them, but manageable enough for them to get home.

Hermione hoped Cedric and Viktor would feel at home. While used to boarding school, they wouldn’t be used to a large house filled with people. And they certainly weren’t used to living with mostly women. Cedric had a little bit of that in Hawaii, but not on a scale like this.

“It’s about dinner time,” said Hermione. “I know we just had lunch, but I’m already hungry.”

“It is one in the morning back in Bulgaria,” said Viktor with a light laugh. “I’m ready to go to sleep.”

“You’ll wake up shortly,” said Esperanza. “Brace yourselves.”

Cedric and Viktor exhaled softly as they saw the house. With the setting sun, the orange house looked like it was glowing. The veranda was crowded as the family set up dinner. Someone noticed the approaching boat and the younger half crowded at the railing to wave at them.

Esperanza approached the dock and parked. Viktor got off the boat first and helped the others out. Esperanza put the slip of paper back in the boat and it drove itself away.

“Hola!” she called, climbing up the stairs to the veranda.

“Just in time,” said Tía Manola. “We’re just about to start dinner and after you eat you boys can have the tour which Ceci will give.”

“The house looks different,” Hermione commented. “I don’t remember that tower on the Southeast side.”

“We remodeled,” said Maite.

Salome, Rafaella, and Melanie charged and grabbed onto a different person either by jumping into their arms or grabbing onto their leg. Viktor was left out until Manolo ran over and gave him a hug. The Bulgarian didn’t seem to know what to do with the sudden contact and just patted the young Sanchez boy on the back.

Hermione let out the cats and the youngest triplets squealed and ran after them.

“We are so excited to have you boys here,” said Tía Constanza, approaching their group. “I hope you don’t mind sharing a room together.”

“It’s fine,” said Cedric. “Do you have a room for Tavi?”

“Hello,” said Tavi, waving. “I am Cedric’s house-elf.”

Heads snapped up.

“Recently freed,” said Cedric.

They immediately relaxed.

“Welcome to our home, Tavi,” said Tía Constanza. “I think we can find a room for you. “Um… do you like gardens?”

Tavi perked up and nodded.

“Wonderful, The Architects will build you a room on the roof next to the garden,” she said. “For now… hm… we’ll figure it out after dinner. Come on and sit, I bet you’re all tired and hungry.”

“I could eat,” said Cedric.

The family table was large and oblong that somehow had plenty of space for all of them, and the center was a turntable so that food could be passed around. It only went left to avoid sudden spills. The table changed sizes depending on how many people were eating. Magic was awesome. The entire family was there to greet Viktor and Cedric since they were basically new family members.

“We’re starving,” said Celeste, patting her round stomach as she sat down. "Unfortunately, this baby is crushing all my organs and I can't eat a lot at once. He won't come soon enough."

"She will be here any day now," Diego assured her.

" _ He _ won't be here for a couple more weeks."

Hermione sat down between Cedric and Esperanza. Manolo insisted on sitting next to Viktor which was utterly adorable. Tía Constanza sat on the other side of Cedric. Salome, Rafaela, and Melanie ate at a smaller table with Tavi, whom they were very interested in.

Once the food was all set out and everyone had settled, Tía Constanza stood up and everyone joined hands. Esperanza smacked Viktor’s hand when he reached out to take food then held it.

Hermione rested her hand on Cedric’s shoulder and bowed her head.

“Heavenly Mother,” said Tía Constanza. “We thank you for this day. We thank you for bringing Esperanza, Herminia, Cedric, and Viktor home safely to us. We ask that you bless the food on our table today, the hands that prepared our food, and the hands that made it possible for us to put this food in our home. Praise to this."

“Alabanza,” Hermione murmured along with everyone else.

“Now, you may eat,” said Tía Constanza.

Everyone grabbed and ladled food onto their plates, the table spinning slowly to the left as everyone grabbed a helping.

“Have some sancocho,” said Hermione. “It’s really good.”

“What’s sancocho?” Cedric asked.

“Seven meat stew,” she replied. “We usually have it on Sundays since it stretches pretty far and we just throw a lot of the week’s leftovers in it. The rest of the week it’s simpler stuff. Arroz con pollo, la bandera, asopao, pasteles en hoja, lots of rice and plantain based dishes because rice and plantains are cheap and we got a lot of mouths to feed. Lunches are a you-find-it-you-eat-it type deal. Breakfasts? It varies.”

“I typically make breakfast for a small group,” Esperanza interjected. “I make breakfast for anyone who wakes up the same time I do. I don’t know what time I’ll wake up tomorrow, we just went back in time without a time turner so don’t count on that.”

“Are our quinceañera dresses ready?” Bianca asked.

“Did you bring us anything from Bulgaria?” Noa asked.

“Is that all you have to say?” Esperanza asked. “Not, ‘we missed you hermana!’ ‘How was your trip, Zaza?’ ‘Life wasn’t the same without you!’”

“We missed you, hermana,” said Josefina in a sweet voice.

“How was your trip, Zaza?” Bianca asked in an equally sweet voice.

Noa raised an eyebrow. “I’m not saying it.”

“She missed me,” Esperanza stage-whispered to Viktor before turning to her sisters. “I missed you, too. The trip was great. And, yes, I brought souvenirs to show you how much fun I had without you, and your dresses are almost ready, I’ll need to do a fitting, I haven’t seen you since September, you know. I bet you’ve grown.”

“We know,” they chorused.

“How are you liking the food?” Hermione asked Cedric.

“Pretty good,” said Cedric.

“You didn’t take very much,” she noted. “You either, Viktor."

"I wanted to make sure everyone else got enough," Cedric explained and Viktor nodded.

Abuela Ximena and Mama Antonella took this as a sign to get up from their seats and spoon food on Cedric and Viktor’s plates, making claims about how thin they were and that they needed to eat.

“You’re so thin, Viktor,” said Abuela Ximena, putting more food on his plate. “Have some more pasteles.”

“No, thank you,” said Viktor. “I mean—no  _ gracias _ .”

Abuela Ximena narrowed her eyes. “I ask if you want more pasteles.”

Viktor leaned away. “Y-yes?"

“That’s what I thought!” Abuela Ximena said cheerfully, placing a few more on his plate.

Tío Greg leaned over. “Just roll with it Vik.”

“Roll with what?” Viktor asked, looking confused.

“Everything,” said Diego with a shrug. "The Sanchez women are used to taking care of each other and anyone that passes along. They're also matriarchal, so we take their last name when we marry in. At least, Greg and I did."

Family dinners usually lasted close to two hours since it was when everyone would catch up with the week’s events. However, halfway through, Manolo and his sisters were sent to bed with Tío Greg organizing the leave. It would be a few years yet before Manolo would be able to sit still long enough for a long dinner. At dessert, Tía Constanza cleared her throat.

“Cedric, Viktor,” she said. “Before we wrap up, I’d like to let you know some standard House Rules.” When she had their full attention, she continued, “In this House, everyone pulls their weight. One) you pick up after yourselves the best you can, house-elf or no. Two) we will not tolerate any—”

“Don’t worry,” said Esperanza. “They’re as gentlemanly as they come and are as far from chauvinistic pigs as possible.”

“Fine. Three) No fighting. If you have a problem with someone, you will talk about it and listen. Four) Keep in mind that there is a blind lady in this house. If you move furniture put it back within the taped lines. I don’t like tripping. Understand?”

“Yes, Tía,” said Cedric.

“I understand,” said Viktor.

“Good.”

Mama Florencía spoke up a moment later. “Five) No premarital sex in the house.”

Viktor choked, Esperanza knocked her cup over, Cedric lost his spoon in his pudding, and Hermione’s water slowly spilled back into her cup when her jaw dropped.

“Mamá!” her daughters gasped in unison.

“Fine. No  _ unprotected _ premarital sex in the house.”

“Ay, dios mio,” someone muttered.

“Mamá,” Ximena hissed. “This topic is not appropriate.”

_ “What? They’re young, they’re full of life,” _ Mama Florencía said, sighing.  _ “I was young like that once. So many memories." _

“Ew…” said Noa, putting her hands over her ears.

_ “They’re too young,” _ said Tía Constanza.

_ “Not Esperanza and Viktor. You know, when I was that age—” _

“Okay!” said Cecilia, jumping to her feet. “I’ll give the tour! Herminia, Esperanza, a little bit of remodeling was done so just walk with us.”

Relieved, they pushed back from the table and hurried into the house. It was easy to shake off the awkward conversation when they could focus on the house.

Cedric and Viktor looked amazed and a little overwhelmed from the ground floor alone. The game room, the parlor/music room, and the sun room were all bright and wonderful.

“Whoa,” they said at the same time when they saw the massive two-story library filled with books, scrolls, and albums that had been collected for centuries.

“We have a catalogue,” said Hermione. “When you pick a book, you have to check it out by writing it in that book over there.”

She pointed to an open book with lines for a name, book title, and date of checking out and returning. That way nobody would be looking for a book that wasn’t there.

They circled to the foyer.

“We have stairs here,” she said. “And an elevator there. If, for any reason, you’re using the elevator you have to close the outside gate first then the inside gate before pressing the button for the floor you want. We’ll take the stairs.”

At the top of the stairs, Cecilia opened the double doors facing them.

“This is our ofrenda room,” she explained. “The tradition was brought to us by Papa Javier from Mexico.” She pointed to a picture of a man with a large mustache and a cowboy hat. He had his arm around his wife and a hand on the head of his eldest daughter. “That’s him and his family.”

The room was strictly lit with candles. There were tiers of tables and shelves filled with pictures of deceased family members. A few opened their eyes and blinked at the sudden visitors.

“If any of you want to put pictures in here, you can,” said Cecilia.

Viktor and Cedric dug into their bags. Viktor, finding his picture first, put it in a free space near the front. An empty candle lit itself, illuminating a photo of two identical boys. Viktor and his twin brother, Vanko.

Cedric got out the picture of his mum’s family and placed it beside Hermione’s mum. As he did, a small object fell out of his bag. Hermione picked it up and found it was a ring. She recognized it as Belphoebe’s ring.

“Come on, much to see,” said Cecilia, moving them along.

Without thinking, Hermione slipped the ring onto her right forefinger so it was next to the ring Abuela gave her, which she wore on her middle finger.

Cecilia showed them the children’s playroom and the second floor of the library before going up one of the flights of stairs at the front, pointing out the water closets under the stairs.

On the second floor, she showed Viktor and Cedric their shared room. It was really cool because they both had a bunk bed with a desk, yet the room was divided by a wall so they had privacy. Their bathroom had a water closet so that if someone needed to use the toilet, the other could still use one of the sinks.

“Wow,” said Cedric.

“I wish my room at Durmstrang was like this,” said Viktor, getting his trunk from Esperanza and placing it on the far side of the room to claim it. “Milo was okay roommate but his idea of half was… incorrect.”

Hermione helped Cedric get his trunk out of his backpack and pushed it against the window.

“You can put your backpack down, you know,” said Cecilia.

“I know,” said Cedric, not removing it.

“Alright,” she said with a shrug. “Adjacent to the boys’ room, is your room, Herminia. You’re sharing it with Bianca, Noa, and Josefina.”

The door was decorated with stickers of flowers and cute bugs.

“Vaya,” Hermione breathed when she opened the door.

An entire wall was two sets of bunk beds, except they were built into the wall with a set of stairs leading to the second level of full-sized beds. Each quarter having its own window, a shelf, and compartments underneath the bed. Hermione’s was on the top right and had a turquoise comforter. She tossed her bag onto her bed.

“The bathroom has four sinks, two toilets, and a closet for dresses. Everything else goes into the built-in closets on that wall there,” said Cecilia, pointing to the wall on the same side as the door.

“Your house is so cool,” said Cedric.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” said Cecilia, leading them to the third floor via staircase that was between Greg's and Manola’s room and their children’s room.

“This floor has the meditation room, the sauna, the workout room, and the quiet rooms,” she said. “The quiet room is for when you get too much of everywhere else. We have two, side-by-side. Cedric, you’ll use one for when you transform.”

“Okay,” he said. “Will it be safe for everyone else?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, waving her hand. “You’ll have Angela. She’s an animagus, so she’ll keep you company. Werewolves don’t attack animals and you’ll have your mind anyway with your potion.”

In the middle of the floor, next to the lift, was a spiral staircase which led up to the roof.

“Up here is the lab,” she said, gesturing to a building. “You’ll hear noises from it, don’t worry about it. This is the garden for tea and relaxing. The food garden is outside the kitchen. That tower is where Maite, Ana, and Elisa live. Esperanza, we moved your room up here so you can also use it for work.”

Esperanza’s room was large and already had her sewing supplies set up. There was a lot of light, but she could close it off with curtains. The ceiling was also glass and had a beautiful view of the sky.

“I love it!” she squealed, setting her purse down on a work table.

“You can explore the grounds tomorrow,” said Cecilia. “We got the food garden, the baseball diamond, the fútbol-slash-Quidditch Pitch, etc. Don't be worried if you see strangers from the Girl Home. They know what goes on here.”

Cedric released a breath. “Where’s my room again?”

Cecilia laughed. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I’m going to go to bed,” Esperanza said and kissed Viktor. “Buenas noches, bomboncito.”

He murmured goodnight in Bulgarian.

Hermione wasn’t tired at all. It was only lunch time back in Hawaii. Did she remember to tell Papá she made it there safely? Better safe than sorry. She tapped her medallion with her thumb.

M.A.D.E.I.T.2.D.R.S.A.F.E.L.U.V.U.

T.H.A.N.K.Y.O.U.L.U.V.U.2. Came the reply around the rim.

Hermione smiled and tucked it in her pocket.

“Herminia, Cedric, you two should try and sleep,” said Cecilia, leading them back to their rooms. “Even if you just lay in bed and read a book. You’ll adjust much better.”

“Alright,” said Hermione.

Noa wheeled out of their room. “Hey, Cedric, where’s your arm?”

Cedric frowned. “In a ditch somewhere along with what’s left of my dignity.”

“Not that,” she said. “I mean, that sucks, but where’s your prosthetic? Weren’t you issued one?”

“I was,” he said. “But it sucks. It doesn’t work properly.”

“Can I see it?”

“Sure.” He shrugged off his backpack, dug out his prosthetic, and handed it to Noa.

“Primitive,” she said, studying it and messing with the joints which refused to move properly. “Did they dig this out of a cave?”

“Probably,” he said. “I have some money but if I buy a decent one it’ll deplete most of what I’ve saved and I’m behind on production.”

“Pfft, you don’t need to buy one,” she said, placing the prosthetic in her lap and backing into her room.

“Well, that’s all organized,” said Cecilia. “Goodnight.”

“Buenas noches, Ceci,” said Hermione.

Cecilia blinked and made her left eye match Hermione’s right. “See you tomorrow. Maybe. I have to work.”

Viktor went into his room, leaving Hermione and Cedric in the hallway.

“We don’t actually have to go to bed, you know,” she said. “Bedtime is only enforced for fourteen and under.”

“What would you prefer to do instead, then?” he asked, leaning against the wall.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Honestly, we should probably unpack and you need to make sure Tavi settles in somewhere.”

“True,” he said. “Tavi.”

Ten seconds later, Tavi appeared.

“You need me?” she asked.

“I want to make sure you get settled in somewhere.”

“Oh, yes,” said Tavi. “I was given a cot in Mama Florencia’s room. She requested I help her in the gardens when she wakes. Is that alright?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’m glad you have a place to be. Um, could you help me unpack, please?”

Tavi brightened up. “Of course!” She strode into the bedroom and got to work unpacking.

Hermione kissed Cedric’s forehead lightly and stroked his cheek with her thumb. “I hope you sleep well.”

“Any plans for tomorrow?” he asked, leaning into her touch.

“Mm… not yet,” she replied. “We’ll think of something. Perhaps a do-nothing day is in order. We can look into sightseeing another day.”

“Good idea.”

Hermione kissed him again and backed into her room where Noa, Bianca, and Josefina were hanging around like lounging cats. Crookshanks had already made himself at home in Josefina’s lap.

“Tell us everything,” said Bianca.

“About what?”

“Uhh… the story about you and Cedric, how and why you almost died in January, why you are suddenly transferring to Castelobruxo when you have a super cute boyfriend at Hogwarts, what happened with that Final Task, is it true Cedric is a werewolf?”

“Oh, that stuff,” said Hermione. “Okay.”

She spent several hours telling them everything that happened since she last saw them before demanding they do the same.

~o0o~

“Hermione!” Cedric slid into the kitchen looking panicked. “I can’t find my mum’s ring. She gave it to me just before she died and so I’ve always kept it on me and now it’s gone.”

“Okay, love, calm down,” said Hermione. She held up her right hand. “You dropped it yesterday so I picked it up, but then got distracted, so I put it on for safekeeping.”

“Oh, thank God,” he breathed, holding out his hand to take it back.

“I bet Abuela would be happy to make a chain for it,” said Hermione.

“That’d be nice,” Cedric replied. “I had one, but I was worried it would break without me realizing it.”

Hermione twisted the ring trying to get it off her finger. Frowning, she tugged on it harder, yet it still, refused to go past her joint.

“It’s stuck,” she said.

“I’ll help,” said Bianca. “Hold out your hand.”

Hermione stuck her hand out. Bianca grabbed hold and tugged.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Hermione cried, feeling her finger stretch farther than it should. “Be careful, my hands are still sensitive!”

“That’s really stuck on tight,” said Bianca.

“That’s odd,” said Cedric. “My mum didn’t have small hands."

“I have a solution,” said Esperanza, flicking the pan with her wand so that it kept their breakfast from burning. She strode over and pointed at the ring.  _ “Engorgio!” _

The ring grew and became loose. Hermione went to remove it and just as it reached her joint, it snapped back down to its original size.

“Well, I’m out of ideas,” said Esperanza, going back to cooking.

“Maybe Cedric has to be the one to remove it,” Noa suggested.

“Yes, you try Cedric,” said Hermione.

He slid the ring most of the way off and paused.

“What if they try to take it away from me?” he asked, staring down at it. “The Ministry? Or Amos? I can’t let that happen… No, you keep it Hermione. It’s safer with you.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“I’m sure,” he said.

“Well, that’s settled,” said Esperanza. “Who’s hungry?”

~o0o~

**“** **_BOOM!”_ **

Cedric dropped his book and looked at Hermione in alarm. They were enjoying each other’s company in the family room after selecting books from the library.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Paula, Emilia, and Abril,” she replied, catching a glass bird that fell off a shelf. She blew on it and it flew back to its spot. “They like to experiment, so they have a lab on the top floor.”

“Why?”

“So that if they blow something up majorly then it’ll only take the roof of the house,” she explained, turning the page in her book.

“I mean why do they have a lab?” he clarified.

“Because they set their room on fire.”

That made sense. Cedric sighed and leaned back.

Noa entered the room and made a beeline towards Cedric, her expression neutral.

“Hey,” he greeted.

Without a word, she removed a bit of measuring tape from her pocket and measured Cedric’s left arm, the length and width of his palm, and each of his fingers individually, even measuring the circumference of the base of his fingers to the tip. She jotted all these measurements down and left.

“Okay, bye.”

Abuela Ximena entered the room. “Herminia, come, we have a lesson.”

“Yes, Abuela,” said Hermione standing up and tucking her book under her arm. She touched Cedric’s shoulder lightly as she passed by.

Cedric leaned back once more when the sound of screaming made him sit back up in alarm. He immediately relaxed when he heard Tía Manola calling after it. It was just the triplets.

Before he could fully relax again, the youngest triplets burst into the room in various states of dress up. Tía Manola charged in after them trying to wrangle them to a single area.

Salome shrieked with delight and jumped onto the couch Cedric was sitting on.

_ “Sorry, Cedric,” _ said Tía Manola, wrangling her daughters in.  _ “Somebody gave them an extra box of juice.” _

_ “No problem,” _ he said, getting to his feet and scooping up Rafaella in his arm.  _ “Need any help?” _

_ “Ah, no,” _ said Tía Manola.  _ “I—” _

_ “I want Cedric to play with us!” _ said Salome, wriggling from her mother’s grasp and attaching herself to Cedric’s leg.

Melanie looked at her sisters and followed Salome’s lead, attaching herself to Cedric’s other leg. He chuckled, catching onto their playful nature and looked at Tía Manola, sensing how tired she was.

_ “Maybe I can keep them occupied for a little while,” _ he said.

_ “Really?” _ said Tía Manola.  _ “That would be wonderful! I really have to get some important things done that I’ve been putting off.” _

_ “It’s no problem at all,” _ said Cedric.  _ “I love children. I could take care of them with one arm… not that I have a choice.” _

She chuckled and hurried off to do whatever she needed to get done. It was… a nap. Ah. Yes, that made sense.

_ “So… what do you want to play?” _ Cedric asked the little girls.

He did not like the looks and grins they exchanged. They dragged him across the house to a room that was completely decorated with children’s drawings. There were low tables for drawing and tiny chairs for sitting. Several adult-sized rocking chairs were spread out and low bookcases filled with children’s books and coloring books nestled beside trunks filled with toys and other things.

_ “You like it?” _ Melanie signed.

“It’s brilliant,” said Cedric. “So what do you want—”

Esperanza burst in with a tape measure, notebook, and pen floating around her. She hardly said a word as he was measured and held fabric swatches to his face.

“Er— hola,” he said and closed his eyes. “Wait… you can’t hear me. You never wear Merelin while you sew.”

“Ah-huh. Ah-huh.” Esperanza turned and left, brushing past Viktor who just seemed to be following her around awkwardly.

“Viktor! Play with us!” Rafaella called out.

The Bulgarian paused and looked after his girlfriend then back at them. Like Cedric, he never lived in a house full of people free to do whatever, and didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Come on, join us,” Cedric said, invitingly. “I don’t know what game we’re playing yet, but I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

Viktor eyed the children apprehensively, took a deep breath, and entered the room.

“What game shall we play?” he asked, clumsily signing the words ‘game’ and ‘play’.

“Tea time!” said Salome, grabbing Viktor’s hand and leading him to the table.

“Wait!” said Rafaela, holding up a hand. “Only princesses can sit at tea time!”

Melanie made little excited gasps and opened up a yellow trunk which was filled with dress up clothes.

“I see,” said Cedric. “No princes?”

“Princes ruin everything,” said Rafaela. “They wake you up from naps and kill innocent witches and dragons.”

Cedric hummed and nodded. “I see.” He nudged Viktor with his elbow.

“Hm? Oh, yes.” He hesitantly took the tiara and feathered boa Salome pressed into his hands and looked at Cedric.

Cedric, without breaking eye contact, put on the pink and purple plastic tiara and wrapped the orange boa around his neck. When children wanted to play, it was best to roll with it. So, Viktor followed along and sat down in one of the tiny chairs, wincing when it creaked.

The three girls were bedecked in their own feather boas and plastic tiaras, along with fake jewelry that probably came from a board game. They had a tiny tea set and a tower full of plastic treats. Cedric felt like a giant at this plastic table and didn’t quite know what to do with his legs. Viktor was sitting sideways, with his right leg stretched out. It seemed he wasn’t quite recovered from his run-in with the Thing.

Rafaela was in charge and directed everyone into what needed to be done. Melanie didn’t mind and Salome interjected once in a while. It was obvious they’d had fights over this before and were still working through it. They were six after all.

It was a novelty for them to have boys who were willing to play. Manolo, at nine, had deemed himself to old for this stuff and Diego was always too busy. Their papá would play with them, but he and mamá were working full time. Cedric and Viktor were a novelty as they had never truly met teenage boys.

“Do you have tea all the time in England?” Salome asked Cedric.

“Of course,” he replied. “Tea time is always at three o’clock.”

The three girls turned to look at the clock on the wall, slowly mouthing where the big hand and little hands were. It was nearly three, which made them nod in satisfaction.

An hour into play later, Hermione entered the playroom.

“There you are Cedric, I—” she stopped in her tracks.

The girls had roped Cedric and Viktor into dress-up. What they didn’t realize was that involved makeup smelling heavily of wax and fruit. They were sitting side-by-side with unamused expressions and their arms crossed. Well, Viktor had his arms crossed and Cedric just had his arm over his stomach. Oblivious to their change in attitude, Salome, Melanie, and Rafaela were having the time of their lives.

“Don’t laugh,” said Cedric to Hermione.

Her face was twisted up.

“I’m not laughing,” she squeaked and snorted. “Do I look like I’m laughing?”

“A little,” he said. Rafaella took a puff and powdered more glitter on his cheek, making him sneeze. Whenever he considered trying makeup he was thinking something more along the lines of eyeliner.

“Oh, well, don’t worry,” said Hermione, removing her camera from around her neck. “Now, I’m just going to take a self-portrait…” She turned her back and held the camera at arm’s length, snapping a photo. “Just totally casual.”

“Nia, play with us!” said Rafaela.

“Oh, I’d love to,” said Hermione, looking at the picture she took while trying not to grin. “But I’m helping prep for church in the morning.”

“But we want to be with you,” said Salome, making her eyes bigger.

“Well, how about you join me?” said Hermione, swerving the manipulation tactic. “We can staple song books, prep vegetables for dinner tomorrow, oh and the kitchen needs cleaning before we can prep.”

“Never mind.”

“By the way,” said Hermione, backing out of the room. “You boys have never looked prettier!”

She left the room and cackled, turning right to go upstairs rather than left to go downstairs.

Manola came in a few minutes later to get the girls ready for dinner. She basically had the same reaction as Hermione.

“Alright, come on,” she said, clapping her hands. “Time to clean up.”

“Do we have to?” Salome asked.

“Yes, you have to,” said Manola. “Cedric, Viktor, you can clean up in that bathroom there. There’s some cold cream and washcloths in the cabinet.”

“This happens often, huh?” said Cedric.

She smiled and nodded. "Greg handles it better than I do, to be honest. His scalp isn't as sensitive as mine."

The two boys got up and put the tiaras, boas, and plastic jewelry away before hurrying into the bathroom and closing the door.

“I think this stuff is giving me a rash,” said Viktor, smearing the cold cream on his face and passing the open container to Cedric.

“I’ll be finding glitter for days,” said Cedric. “But as long as they’re happy and having fun.”

“Da,” said Viktor. “When I have children, I will play with them like this.”

Cedric looked at him in the mirror and raised an eyebrow.

“We haven’t talked that far into future,” said Viktor quickly, wetting a washcloth and wiping the cream off. “We are just enjoying time together and will talk again before I leave.”

“That’s a good plan,” said Cedric. “Don’t forget, you still owe me another round of Seeker’s Bombardment and another duel.”

“It is on.” He frowned. “My face itches.”

Cedric hummed and cleaned off his own face, cringing at how sticky the makeup residue felt. But that’s because it was children’s makeup and not Maybelline or… whatever brand of makeup Esperanza and Hermione used. He wasn't sure.

“I do think you and Esperanza are meant to be,” he said. “I’ve seen a lot of relationships.”

Viktor exclaimed something in Bulgarian. Cedric raised his head and shouted, “Oh, my  _ God _ !”

Viktor’s face had red splotches all over it that were spreading quickly and the rawest areas were swelling.

“Are you two okay in there?” Manola asked, knocking.

“No,” said Cedric, flinging the door open. “Viktor’s having an allergic reaction to the makeup!”

“Santa Maria!” Manola exclaimed. “Come with me, we have something for that. Cedric supervise the girls, make sure they wash up.”

Cedric nodded and looked at Salome, Melanie, and Rafaela.

“You heard your mum,” he said. “Wash up.”

“Do we have to?” Rafaela asked.

“Yes,” said Cedric. “Playtime is over for everyone. Time to wash up for dinner.” He pushed the Winnie the Pooh step ladder over to the sink with his foot. "Who’s first?” Silence. “If nobody volunteers then I’ll have to pick one of you.” More silence. “Okay, Rafaela, you first.”

Manola returned without Viktor.

“He’s with Angela,” she said before he could ask. “He’ll be fine. I can take over from here.”

“Okay, thanks,” said Cedric, moving on to go find Hermione. When he made it to the first floor, he nearly bumped into Tía Constanza. “Oh, lo siento.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I was actually looking for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, come with me to the library,” she said, beckoning for him to follow.

She moved so effortlessly and easily around the house, it was easy to forget she was blind. Cedric realized all he knew about blind people were mostly how seeing people thought blind people were like. She had cognac eyes just like the rest of her family and she didn’t wear sunglasses. She also used words like "look" and "see".

They went down to the ground floor.

“Go on and sit while I find what I’m looking for,” she said, skimming her fingers along the bookcases.

“Okay,” said Cedric, sitting down in one of the arm chairs.

“How long have you been a legilimens?” Constanza asked.

“Um…” he thought about it. “Well, I’ve always been empathic. I guess I started hearing people’s thoughts my second year of school and it just grew from there. It’s not like I do it on purpose. Sometimes people just think loudly.”

“It’s rare for someone to naturally be a legilimens,” she replied. “I know you don’t use it for bad. Herminia told us that you use it to help people.”

Cedric shrugged. “People’s thoughts are so weird sometimes. I hate when I hear intrusive thoughts. Most of the time it’s followed by an internal argument about why they would think that. I always hear or see thoughts when I make eye contact. It depends on how people think and what they’re thinking.”

Constanza nodded and found what she was looking for.

“Did you know,” she said, “that you can bring your legilimency to a whole other level?”

“I can?”

“Mmhm.” She approached him carrying a large book and sat down. “Now… I’m an Aurologist, but for my Level Three E.D.A.M.s.—”

“Edams?”

“No. E-D-A-M,” she clarified. “Exámenes de Apitud Magia. Your Nasty Exhausting Wizard Exámenes. We take Level Ones our fifth year, Level Twos our sixth, and Level Threes our seventh. There are higher levels for continuing education, though, by then most people are in mentoring programs."

“Oh,” he flushed and cleared his throat. “Sorry for interrupting.”

“It’s okay, you have questions,” she said, waving her hand. “So, for my E.D.A.M.s I wanted to prove that magic could extend beyond what was considered normal. A deaf person could cast spells in a new way, why can’t a blind girl learn magic that requires eye-contact? And, oh, I learned so much. I discovered so much. I wrote a book about it.”

She gave him the book. It was all black and had gold lettering on the cover.

“All you need to know is in that book and we will study the practical for it, too,” she said. “You can do wondrous things if you think outside the box.”

Learning how to extend his magic beyond what anyone else could do? Brilliant!

“Okay,” said Cedric eagerly. “I’m ready for my first lesson.”

“Excellent,” she said. “Step One: Read that book.”

“Oh.” Sighing lightly, he flipped it open.

“I’m kidding,” said Tía Constanza, breaking into laughter. “You should have heard your voice!”

Cedric smiled and chuckled, closing the book.

“Step one,” she said. “Close your eyes and focus on the magic that you use for legilimency. If it’s easier you can say the incantation  _ legilimens _ so you can feel for the frequency of magic.”

“Okay. I’m ready!” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  _ “Legilimens!” _

_ Sunday _

Sunday, around six a.m., everyone had gathered in the entrance hall wearing their Sunday best. All of which was pure white with colorful embroidery on hems and collars. Hermione pinned half of her hair back with a big, white chrysanthemum and wore flat sandals with her dress. Cedric and Viktor weren’t expecting to go to church but, luckily, Esperanza had white suits ready for them that matched Greg’s, Diego’s, and Manolo’s.

"So, how are we getting there?" Cedric asked.

"The bus," said Hermione.

“Cedric, you don’t have to bring your backpack,” said Tía Manola.

“I know,” he said.

“You can run it upstairs real quick.”

Cedric shook his head and managed to clip the straps together across his chest so it wouldn’t fall off. He’d taken to wearing it everywhere, even indoors. Hermione wasn’t about to stop him as long as it made him feel safe.

_ "Everybody here?"  _ Abuela Ximena asked, doing a quick headcount.  _ "Good. Let's go." _

They filed out the front door and waiting for them was a big, dusty bus. Tío Greg got inside and took his seat as the driver. It took some time but they all managed to find seats. Noa's wheelchair had a special section in the front where her wheels could be strapped down so she wouldn't roll around.

"This is much nicer than the Knight Bus," said Cedric, taking his seat by the window. "I like how the seats are stationary."

“I do, too.”

Once everyone had been seated, Tío Greg started the engine and drove down the incredibly narrow road at speeds that normal buses shouldn't even reach, but not as fast as the Knight Bus. Hermione felt her heart jump into her throat and she grabbed onto Cedric's sleeve.

"We're not going to tip over," he said. "This isn't like the carriages."

_ "What happened with the carriages?"  _ Renata asked loudly, looking over her shoulder. The bus went quiet and everyone looked over their shoulders.

_ "Third year, Halloween, our carriage tipped over,"  _ said Hermione trying not to make it sound like a big deal.  _ "Absolutely terrifying and this one's fat ass nearly crushed me." _

"My butt's not that big," he said.  _ "It's muscle." _

_ "It's very nice,"  _ said Renata.

_ "Hey! Mine!" _

_ "I'm just commenting. You're lucky." _

_ "None of that talk before church or I will wash your mouth out with soap,"  _ Tía Constanza warned.  _ "You are never too old." _

_ "Sorry, mamá." _

Mama Guadalupe stood up.

_ "We will be there soon," _ she said.  _ "Let's all warm up those lovely voices. Now, Cedric, Viktor, what vocal range are you? Let me hear Cedric first.” _

Cedric took a deep breath and sang a verse of the song he and Hermione got together to. She smiled and rested her ankle against his.

_ “Lovely,” _ she said. “Viktor, now you.”

Viktor flushed. “I’m not good at singing.”

“It’s okay, you aren’t soloing,” she assured him. “Just sing a few scales. Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do.”

Viktor hesitantly sang before cringing and trailing off. Maybe he just had a different type of singing voice.

“Good effort,” said Manola.

“I think you sound amazing,” said Esperanza, kissing his cheek.

A pleased smile crossed his face until he remembered she was deaf. He gave her an unamused look. “That’s not funny.”

Everyone burst into laughter.

_ "Okay, just stay by your lady and it will balance. Everyone start on your vocal exercises." _

The bus filled with cacophony as everyone went into their own separate vocal exercises, whether it was sirens, tongue-twisters, or other crazy stuff. Cedric and Viktor glanced at each other and then back at the family, unsure what to make of this and if they should join in or not.

_ "Stop!"  _ Guadalupe shouted after a minute. Once they were in silence she blew a note into a pipe.

They vocalized in harmony. Hermione straightened her back so that her voice would sound better. Consonance resonated in a near ethereal type manner.

_ "Our soloist this Sunday for opening mass is Esperanza," _ Guadalupe continued once she was satisfied that they were warmed up.

_ "She always solos," _ Bianca scoffed.

Esperanza stuck her tongue out. Guadalupe ignored them in favor of her list.

_ "Maite you will solo after the First Reading; Emilia you will solo for the Alleluias; Celeste, Juana, María, you will group during Communion." _ She looked up over her glasses.  _ "Herminia, you will sing the final hymn which you managed to avoid last year." _

"Okay.” She opened her song packet and began memorizing the notes for the final hymn, humming them under her breath.

Soon enough, they arrived at Luesma and unloaded near the doors. They entered the mostly empty cathedral and made their way inside. It was gothic architecture made of coral limestone with high vaulted ceilings and beautiful yet worn down façades. Cedric twisted and turned his head this way and that when they entered trying to take in the beauty of the stained glass windows and the wood carvings of the trials of Jesus. Hermione was still fascinated by it all, she only saw it a few times last year, after all.

It was a short way up a set of stairs to the choir balcony. Waiting for them were red robes and bibles. Within the half-hour of their arrival, the rest of the choir showed up and Guadalupe was leading them through their warm-ups and songs as people entered the church for Mass until, eventually, they started the opening hymn.

Esperanza took her place at the podium and sang, her angelic voice filling the cathedral.

Hermione glanced down the row at Viktor who was staring at her with complete awe.

"What if I don't understand enough for Mass?" Cedric whispered to her.

"You'll learn," she whispered back. "I'll let you know what the Gospel is."

"I didn't know you were religious."

"Sort of, mum and dad just didn't like the churches near us because they were full of people who missed the point of Christianity. I mostly like the meditation and Father Julio and Mother Dolores are pretty open-minded. They even marry gay couples. Besides, the magical denomination of the Catholic church is different from the no-maj Catholic church. Witches wondered why they should be persecuted for doing the same things Jesus did and so," she gestured to the Priest and Priestess making their way down the aisle to the altar. "they made their own denomination and don't really answer to the Vatican."

"I like to whisper, too," Tía Manola whispered, leaning in between them. "Talk after."

Hermione held a finger to her lips and opened her bible to share with Cedric.

Mass was a nice place to meditate and the sermon was all about how family didn't necessarily mean the people you share blood with. Perfect, in Hermione's opinion, for Cedric to hear. Her solo went off without a hitch and they all went back to the bus.

"I like hearing you sing," Cedric murmured in her ear.

Hermione smiled and hoped she wasn't blushing. She really liked hearing him sing, too, and made sure to think it loudly enough for him to hear. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a reminder, in my research I found that in the Dominican Republic the fifteen-year-old is called the quinceañera. Also, I drew Noa, Bianca, and Josefina in casual attire and you can find it on my art blog. I’m moving next month, so I don’t have time to draw their gowns or school uniforms yet. I also keep meaning to post the “floor plan” for D.R. home, but I’m kinda second guessing it. Like, not where the rooms are that’s set in stone, but more of the shape. Right now it’s just in boring old squares not really meant to reflect the actual shape of the house.
> 
> P.S. If any of my writing about the Dominican Republic is wrong, please PM me and I will fix it. I’ve never been there, the only place I went to in the Caribbean was Jamaica and I remember none of it despite the fact I was……………. Ten? I dunno.

 

Esperanza had been working tirelessly to make sure that her sisters’ quinceañera dresses were perfect. She was going above and beyond, yet also taking some risks and trying new techniques. Using alchemy and arithmancy, she had made thousands of tiny diamonds. Viktor found it rather amusing that she had discovered a way to manufacture precious gems and was using it for fashion.

It was for Bianca’s dress. She had requested to look like a giant, sparkling, cupcake topper. Esperanza didn’t want it to look like any old poofy dress; she was experimenting with layers upon layers of lighter than gossamer fabric that she wove herself ages ago and was hand painting in pale shades of pink and purple like watercolors. It was a  _ lot _ of fabric and a  _ lot _ of gems. Bianca was so excited, she squealed each time she saw its progress. It was the princess gown every little girl wanted and when it had its use, there would be discussion as to what to do with it. Sell it as an art piece, or as a quinceañera gown for a very rich girl.

Esperanza had come downstairs for her lunch break and had wrapped her hands around a cold glass of water.

“How’s the dressmaking going?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, it’s going great,” said Esperanza. “I was working on it in Bulgaria and I think it’s really coming together now.”

“I’m almost expecting it to come with glass slippers,” Hermione joked.

“Cinderella’s dress is white in the movie and cornflower blue in the merchandise,” said Esperanza. “This dress is lavender with tiny bits of pink here and there.”

“The boys went outside to play pick-up Quidditch with Noa, Bianca, Josefina, Paula, Emilia, and Abril,” said Hermione. “Can I watch you work? Maybe I can help.”

“Okay,” said Esperanza. “I’d like the company. I’m getting to the point where I’m questioning everything I do and worrying that it will turn out bad.”

“It’ll be gorgeous,” Hermione assured her. “I’ve seen your work.”

“Every artist make mistakes.”

Hermione thought about quoting Bob Ross at this time, but she knew that fashion often made mistakes. Happy accidents only happened when painting and, occasionally, in baking.

“You won’t make a mistake with this one,” Hermione insisted.

Esperanza pressed her hand against her face and tapped her nails against the table. “I’ve had some horrible mistakes in the past.”

“Don’t think about those,” said Hermione. “Eat your lunch.”

After a break, Esperanza felt a lot better. She and Hermione made their way up the stairs and passed by the playroom.

“Zaza!” Rafaela called, making her backpedal. “Zaza! ¡Mira!”

Rafaela ran up to her holding up a picture covered with an odd-looking glitter. Inside the room, in a rocking chair, Mama Florencía was dozing.

_ “Innit pretty?” _

_ “Very pretty,” _ said Esperanza. She frowned and looked at the glitter.  _ “Where did you get this?” _

_ “From your room!” _ Rafaela beamed.  _ “Melanie and Salome are in there now.” _

The front door banged open.

“Esperanza!” Viktor shouted. “Merelin! Get Esperanza’s attention for me!”

Hermione went back to see him running up the stairs.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

He reached the first floor and saw Esperanza. He raised his eyebrows and they made eye contact.

“No…” Esperanza whispered, running up the next flight of stairs.

“Esperanza, don’t!” Viktor called, chasing after her.

Hermione followed. Cedric and everyone else playing Quidditch were not too far behind. Whatever had brought Viktor inside could be seen from outside. They were all calling to Esperanza/Merelin to try and stop her.

They reached the roof, all panting heavily except for Esperanza who didn’t seem to be breathing at all. The door to her room was ajar. She pushed it open and everyone’s jaw dropped. Melanie and Salome were playing with Esperanza’s things, many of her materials strewn about in their attempt to find whatever it was they were looking for initially before becoming distracted by the pretty things.

Worst of all, they were playing with the special fabric she made for Bianca’s dress. They were grabbing more off the spool that she already dyed and were throwing it out the window to watch it float in the wind.

“Hola, Zaza,” said Salome, noticing their cousin.

Esperanza was incredibly still.

“What’d I miss?” Noa asked, pushing through them and seeing the state of the room. “Oh…”

“Zaza! We used some of your glitter,” said Salome.

Melanie signed happily and held up her own picture using the tiny diamonds that were being sewn into the very fabric they were tossing out the window.

Emilia and Abril ran in and snatched up the two girls, bringing them out of the room, ignoring their protests and growing tantrums. The rest went about putting the room to rights and rescuing the fabric.

“Esperanza?” said Viktor, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Speak to me.”

Esperanza didn’t respond, her eyes going out of focus. Hermione could’ve sworn she saw her soul leave her body for an instant.

“Esperanza?” Viktor tried again. “Merelin, are you translating?”

Merelin poked her head out of Esperanza’s hair and flicked her tongue before going back in.

“Esperanza?” said Bianca. “Are you okay?”

“Let’s get her downstairs,” said Hermione. “Cedric, coordinate clean up here. Er— Tavi!”

Tavi popped into the room. “Yes, Miss?”

“Brew up a pot of tea, please,” she said. “Herbal. Perhaps the blackcurrant.”

“Right away, miss!” said Tavi, apparating out of the room.

Viktor led Esperanza to the lift while Hermione snatched up Esperanza’s Walkman and sped down the stairs to get the chaise ready in the parlor.

They helped Esperanza lay down on the chaise and got some of her music playing. Tavi presented a tray of tea.

“Anything else I can do?” Tavi asked.

“I’d just stay out of the way,” Hermione suggested. “Everyone else is going to go into hiding.”

“What’s going to happen?” Viktor asked.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, fixing herself a cup of tea just to do something. “You saw her after the Second Task, that was when her family was put in danger and you were nearly killed. This is completely different territory. The girls are six and getting into more trouble and mischief than ever. They’re doing what children do and it just happened to be more destructive than they realized. They don’t realize the amount of work they literally threw out the window. Judging from everyone’s reactions, this hasn’t happened before.”

“So we wait and see what happens?” he asked.

“We wait and see what happens,” she confirmed.

Esperanza sat in a near trance for the rest of the afternoon; Viktor sat with her the entire time. Cedric came in at one point to check on her.

“You’ve been working with Tía Constanza,” said Hermione. “Can you see what’s going on in her head?”

“I can try.” He sat down, Viktor moving aside so he could, and rested his thumb against her temple, looking into her eyes. “Her mind’s gone blank. I’m not reading anything.”

“Oh, dear,” said Hermione.

Tía Manola and Tío Greg arrived home shortly after.

“Hello,” Tía Manola called.

Hermione opened the door to the parlor the rest of the way. “You two need to come in here. It’s about your daughters.”

“Why?” Tío Greg asked. “What happened?”

“Are they okay?” Tía Manola asked.

“ _ They _ are,” said Hermione, turning to look at Esperanza. “While we were eating lunch, they were playing. Mama Florencía fell asleep and I guess they wanted to get some glitter for their drawings. They went to Esperanza’s room to find some and found the diamonds she made.”

“Oh, no,” Tía Manola breathed.

“And Salome and Melanie stayed behind to play with the fabrics,” Hermione continued. “And they realized that the super light fabric Esperanza wove looked really pretty in the air.”

“Oh, no…” Tío Greg put a hand over his mouth.

“Esperanza has been in shock for hours,” said Viktor. “I can’t get a response.”

“I…” Tía Manola blinked a few times, processing this information. “I… um… I will… go talk to the girls and we will move forward from there when Esperanza comes to.”

Bianca entered the room soon after they left. Viktor removed Esperanza’s earbuds and Merelin returned to her post.

“Esperanza,” she said. “If you can’t… if you can’t finish it… I don’t need a cupcake gown. It’s just a dress. I’ll live.”

Esperanza blinked slowly and her eyes focused then narrowed.

“My motto is:," she said slowly, “I don’t give you the outfit you want. I give you the outfit you deserve. You will get that dress. I have put too many hours into that dress to give up now.”

Viktor helped her to her feet and Esperanza moved on, leading her own little parade back to her room. Cedric was good at deducing where things were kept, and so the room was mostly back in order. They put what diamonds were saved into a glass jar that was kept out of reach and sight of a six-year-old. The damaged fabric was folded up and placed on a blank space for Esperanza to examine and see if any could be salvaged.

There was just a lot of it.

“Are you going to be okay?” Bianca asked.

Esperanza burst into tears.

“That’s a ‘no’ then,” she said drily.

Esperanza plunked onto her bed and buried her face in her hands.

“I will stay with her until she calms down,” said Viktor, sitting beside her and holding her gently.

“I’ll check up on her in the morning,” said Bianca. She looked at the half-finished dress on the form and lightly touched it before leaving.

“Want me to bring you up some food?” Hermione asked.

“No,” said Viktor. “We can always get some later.”

“Alright.”

When Viktor and Esperanza didn’t come down, Hermione decided to go up and check on them again, bringing some water with her. When a person cried a lot it was important for them to hydrate. Cradling the water bottles in one arm, she knocked on the door.

“Come in,” came Viktor’s voice.

Hermione opened the door. Esperanza was holding Viktor tightly, her head rested on his chest and her breathing was slow and even while Viktor stroked her hair.

“When did she fall asleep?” Hermione asked.

“An hour ago,” Viktor replied. “I don’t want to move because I’m worried I will wake her.”

Hermione nodded. “Well, I’ll just put this water by you. Make sure she drinks it when she wakes up.”

He nodded and Hermione left, closing the door behind herself, but not before she took Esperanza’s notes on the diamonds with her. She found Cedric with Renata and Paula in the library.

“Hey,” she said. “I was thinking we could help Esperanza get her gems back.”

Cedric took the notes and studied them. “Yeah, I think this is manageable.”

“I’ll help,” said Paula. “We can go to my lab. I’d like to study this further.”

Renata laughed as she read the notes. “Only Zaza would discover how to make diamonds using arithmancy and alchemy on carbon-based objects only to sew them into a dress.”

The lab was… interesting to say the least. It was a large room with a high ceiling and vents. The work tables were absolutely covered with scrolls and notebooks and papers. An entire wall was chalkboard, filled with runic and arithmantic combinations. Various experiments took up the rest of the space.

“You need to clean up in here,” said Renata, giving her younger sister a stern look.

Paula cleared her throat.

“I’ll say!” came a squeaky voice.

Tavi rounded the corner with a broom in her hand. “I can’t sleep knowing a mess like this is in the house!”

“We have a system!” Paula shouted.

“And I’m making you a new one,” said Tavi, with her arms akimbo. “Don’t go arguing with me!”

“Don’t go arguing with her,” said Cedric. “I see her mind is made up and she’s free to do whatever she wishes.”

“That’s right…” said Tavi. “I  _ am _ free to do as I wish!” She snapped her fingers and the papers started organizing themselves. “If you’re going to be working, work at this table.” She pointed to the newly cleaned table. “Pick up after yourselves when you’re done, please.”

“I think she’s settled in well,” said Hermione cheerfully. If she agreed to it, Tavi would be the perfect example of how freeing house-elves was good for their health and overall well-being.

Tavi hummed to herself and went about cleaning as the four got to work.

“Apparently,” said Renata in hushed tones, “Esperanza was working with sand to glass crystals but didn’t find them shiny enough with that special fabric she created. That's why she moved on to diamonds."

“How many do we need to make?” Cedric asked.

“I think she said she made ten thousand,” said Hermione.

“How many for Bianca’s dress?”

“… Ten thousand.”

“Oh…”

“That’s okay,” said Paula. “We’ll just make one and I can measure it and find a proper volume container and we’ll just keep making diamonds until it’s filled.”

“Might take all night even with the four of us,” said Cedric. “We have to perfect the technique after all.”

“I’ll get a reject container,” said Paula as she tied her blond curls into a puffy ponytail.

“Tavi,” said Cedric.

“Yes, Cedric,” she said.

“In an hour or so, could you make some coffee for us, please?” he asked.

“Certainly, Cedric,” she said cheerfully.

Hermione noticed that Tavi had started wearing clothes. If not Esperanza, someone had time to sew and embroider a proper tunic for the elf. It wasn’t far from the pillowcase she wore before, but it was a good start. Tavi definitely seemed to be taking freedom a lot better than she had over a month ago. She had really become assertive which was surprising considering how long she’d been in servitude.

“Okay,” said Renata, making four copies of the ‘recipe’ for diamonds and passed them out. “Let’s begin.”

Paula worked to get them the carbon necessary. She left a note next to the oven claiming she would go into town tomorrow to replace their coal.

Hermione found that her first ten attempts turned out wrong. Too big, wrong cut, misshapen, more coal than diamond. Finally, she got it down and was able to start filling up the container. Cedric got out his homemade pair of magnifying glasses. His diamonds were turning out the best and he fell into a rhythm, creating a steady line of production.

Even with this rhythm, they worked all night. It was a wonder how Esperanza achieved this by herself.

“Okay,” said Paula, rubbing her eyes. “I think we’ve made more than enough.”

“Got a childproof cap?” Hermione asked.

“Yep.”

Cedric rubbed his hand down his face and sighed.

“I think I could actually sleep,” he said.

Hermione furrowed her brow. “Are you still having problems sleeping? We’ve got remedies for that.”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m fine.”

“There will come a time where I won’t accept that answer,” she said and sighed. “That is not today.”

She picked up the container of diamonds. “I’ll take this to Zaza, the rest of you can go get some rest.”

“Mm… I have to get to work,” Renata muttered. “I’ll just drink some espresso and I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so,” said Hermione.

While everyone else went down the spiral staircase, she went to Esperanza’s room. She was just going to leave it on one of the worktables and make her exit. When she opened the door, Viktor was still there, though judging by his snores, he had nodded off. Esperanza was still asleep with her head on his chest. The morning light would reach them soon but, for now, it was still hidden behind the ridge and crest of trees, the pink sky clearly visible in the wide skylight.

It must’ve been a beautiful view at night and provided excellent light during the day.

Moving quietly, Hermione set the jar down where it would be seen. As her hand touched the door, Viktor snorted and Esperanza jolted awake and sat up with her wand drawn. An imprint of one of Viktor’s buttons marked her cheek and her hair was flat on the same side.

_ “Good morning,” _ Hermione signed.

_ “Why are you here?” _ she signed back.

_ “Cedric, Renata, Paula, and I made these.” _ Hermione gestured to the jar.

Esperanza’s eyes widened and she beamed, jovially signing her gratitude. She quietly got up and gave Hermione a giant hug. Smiling, Hermione continued signing,

_ “Viktor snore loud. Why you no wake?” _

_ “It’s like purring,” _ she replied.  _ “I love it.” _

Viktor snorted again and jerked awake, looking around blearily. Esperanza went to his side and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand.

“Go back to sleep, mi amor,” she said.

He nodded and rolled onto his side with a soft groan. Esperanza picked up Merelin from her perch.

Hermione followed Esperanza out and down to the kitchen for some breakfast.

“Did you sleep all night?” Hermione asked.

“Mm,” she shook her head. “I woke up for a little bit. Drank some water. I was still upset, so Viktor said he’d stay with me. Isn’t he sweet?”

Hermione nodded and broke into a yawn.

“Did you stay up all night working?” Esperanza asked.

“Mmhm. I hope we did them right.”

“Well, I usually like to do things myself,” she said. “I’m a control freak that way but… I’ll make an exception in this case.”

“Well, that’s good. Will you be working all day today?”

“Of course!”

“Thought so. Need any help?”

“Not yet. I have this vision in my head and I don’t know how to project it to other people,” she said. “I’m not like Tía Constanza or Cedric.”

“Cedric can’t project visions,” said Hermione. "Just thoughts."

“Not  _ yet _ .”

Hermione was quiet for a moment. “What  _ will _ you do with the dress?”

“Oh, I think I’ll keep it until I hate it, then sell it to the highest bidder,” said Esperanza, waving her hand. “If Bianca were a size six then I would have to put eat that dress, no one could wear it. A size six here is a size two in the UK, for reference.”

 

Women’s clothing sizes must’ve been decided however the planets aligned in the Fuck You Galaxy.

“Why would you ever hate it?” Hermione asked, not wanting to set her cousin off on clothing sizes.

“Stare at something you made long enough, and you start to think of ways that you can make it better,” she explained. “But it’s like a book already published. You can’t take all of them back and make the changes then send them out again. You can make new editions, but it would never be the same and someone will always have a copy of your mistakes."

“I suppose so.”

With the quinceañera approaching, everyone was working to get it set up. It would be held in the main plaza in Luesma. The plaza was named after its founder, a taíno named Cayacoa. Of course, even after his attempts to battle the Spanish invaders, the area still absorbed a lot of Spanish culture, but there were plenty of memorials dedicated to Cayacoa and settlements of Taínos and Kalinagos were located nearby. They were the largest villages of indigenous peoples outside of Carib territory.

 

The party would take place in Plaza de Cayacoa as was tradition for a lot of quinceañeras. They would have Mass in the church with Madre Doralis, then there would be a procession to the plaza. Fifteen couples do a waltz while the quinceañeras watched from their special thrones. Then, the quinceañeras would each say something about five people who influenced their life, then they would receive gifts, and family members would toast to them. After that, they would just eat and party.

Since this was for triplets, they each invited five boys and five girls, most of them being friends from school. Hermione, Cedric, and Viktor were part of Noa’s procession. Noa and Josefina asked if they could borrow Cedric and Viktor as dance partners. Bianca was dancing with one of her friends from school. Hermione and Esperanza didn’t mind and agreed. The days leading up to the celebration were spent practicing the dances, rehearsing speeches, and preparing for the meals. The cakes would be made by friends in town.

Two days before the party, Esperanza finally, finally _ , finally, _ finished the dresses. She cried when she was done, then took a two hour nap before checking the final fitting. The dresses were just gorgeous. Noa’s was pale yellow and covered with flitting butterflies, Josefina went with blue and her dress was reminiscent of the sky complete with clouds around the hem and neckline, supposedly it would change as the evening went on. Bianca’s was absolutely gorgeous. She achieved cupcake in the most tasteful way.

It was the most beautiful shade of lavender Hermione had ever seen. Tiny rosettes decorated the collar, and when Bianca spun around, the layers floated so softly. She absolutely sparkled with the diamonds in her dress and in her hair. Her sisters were slightly envious and begged to have a turn in it, even if they couldn’t have it for the party.

Hell, Hermione, wanted to wear it and twirl in it. Esperanza promised to separate the bodice and just keep the skirt on its elastic band. Everyone would get a turn twirling in the princess skirt.

The easiest dresses were the dresses for the procession. They had about fifteen of every color in the shop and slight changes could be done to make the hue match the main dress. They were a simple cut so they wouldn’t distract from the quinceañera. The boys were in white suits and had cummerbunds and ties to match their specific quinceañera.

Finally, came the day of the quinceañera. Everyone was gathered in the foyer waiting for the quinceañeras.

“Don’t you look handsome,” said Hermione, smoothing down Cedric’s lapels. “A real lady killer.”

“Acquitted,” he said.

Hermione snorted and laughed then pressed a kiss to his cheek.

 

“You look good in yellow,” he said. “You should wear it more often. Not that I’m telling you what to wear, but I just think it looks nice on you.”

 

“Of course you want me to wear yellow,” she said. “You’re such a Hufflepuff.”

 

He grinned.

Esperanza hurried down the stairs and did an outfit check on everyone. She was wearing a black with gold jacquard cocktail dress that she could easily move around in.

“Calm down, my swan,” said Viktor, following her.

“I need this day to be perfect,” said Esperanza. “You only get one quinceañera. It’s an important milestone, and I don’t want there to even be an  _ opportunity _ to nitpick.”

“What happened at yours?” Hermione asked.

Esperanza made a face. “There’s a reason why I created an enchantment to repel all liquids and foods.” She took a lint brush to Viktor’s shoulders. “That is all I will say.”

“Well, your hair looks nice today,” said Cedric. “Messy updos are in."

“Messy?!” Esperanza shrieked and ran to the nearest bathroom to fix her hair.

“Oops.”

As soon as Esperanza returned, Tía Manola appeared at the top of the stairs.

“They’re coming,” she said.

Hermione got her camera ready.

The three quinceañeras stood at the top of the stairs. Noa was wearing her leg braces just for the staircase photos, but would use her chair for the rest of the day. They weren’t exactly comfortable to dance in. The triplets were radiant and smiled brilliantly, posing for pictures.

“Oh, look at you,” said Esperanza, tears coming to her eyes. “You all look so gorgeous. Okay, two more pictures and then we’ll be on our way, we’re running late.”

“We’re always running late,” said Noa, shifting uncomfortably. “But yeah, hurry up, these things are killing me.”

Soon they were on their way. Hermione could’ve sworn she saw glitter floating in the sunlight streaming through the windows.

“What’s the day today?” she asked Cedric.

“Er… Friday,” he said. “Friday the twenty-eighth.”

Hermione rested her chin on the seat in front of her.

“Friday night and the lights are low…” she sang. “Lookin’ out for a place to go.”

“Where they play the right music,” Cedric sang, joining in. “Getting in the swing, you come to look for a King.”

Renata joined in singing and eventually most of the bus was singing  _ Dancing Queen _ .

Mass went smoothly and soon they were in the plaza. It was all decorated with fairy lights and round tables with white tablecloths and pretty centerpieces. Hermione lined up in Noa’s procession with Cedric.

“Hi,” said the boy in front of her. He was dark-skinned and his hair was close-shaven. “I’m Bembe, Noa’s friend. The shrimp behind you is Linda."

Linda really was scrawny with big glasses and bad acne. Though, most teenagers and adults had acne due to rising stress. She kept her head at a weird angle and avoided eye contact with her dance-partner. She looked as if she would rather be wearing anything than the dress.

“Herminia,” Hermione replied. “I’m transferring to Castelobruxo.”

“Ah, well, we’ll have to make room at the loser table,” said Bembe.

“In Primary school, I wasn’t high enough on the social ladder for the loser table. This is a total upgrade."

Linda laughed nervously.

“She's awkward,” said Bembe. “Usually around pretty people.”

Linda twitched a little and Cedric was frowning as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't. Maybe he saw something in Linda's head, but couldn't say it out loud without embarrassing her.

The band began to play and the procession began. The quinceañeras made their way to the platform and sat at their thrones while the Court of Honor started the waltz. Hermione smiled up at Cedric as they danced.

“I wish I would’ve told you how I felt about you during your quinceañera,” he said. “I’d tried to tell you so many times.”

“Looking back,” said Hermione, “yes, you did. I wish I wasn’t so obtuse.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” said Cedric. “I guess I needn’t have been scared of being obvious.”

“Guess not.”

When the waltz ended, it was time for the quinceañeras to cut the cake and then make their speeches about five people who influenced their life, they would then receive their wand handles and get to cast magic in public for the first time. After that, they would have their dances with their “dates” and everyone could just party. The presents would be opened later and at home, for now, they were stacked high on a table. Some of the townspeople brought presents along as a ticket to get in on the party.

Noa was first since she was the oldest by five minutes and cast a charm creating a flock of birds that sang a birthday song, Josefina was next and made it lightly snow in the square, and Bianca was last making all the plants in the square go into full bloom. Everyone applauded and the dates went forward to dance. Viktor took Noa and Cedric took Josefina. Bianca already had a date. A boy from her school named Enrique.

 

Hermione swayed to the music and smiled. She was glad she got to wear Mamá’s dress for her quinceañera. Though that was fun to twirl in, Bianca’s looked even more fun. The local newspaper seemed to be paying special attention to the princess gown. In fact, a few people already approached Esperanza asking about an exact copy being made for their daughters. When she mentioned the price and recommended a similar but cheaper alternative, they all chose the alternative and placed their orders before being shooed away.

“Hola,” said a voice.

Hermione glanced and saw a tall boy with something that was probably supposed to be a mustache on his lip. He stared at Hermione in a way that made her feel uncomfortable. She hummed and took a step away which only made him take a step closer.

_ “Friend or family?” _ he asked.

_ “Family,” _ she replied shortly.

_ “Let’s get this party started!” _ the band leader shouted. They jumped into a fun dancing song that reminded Hermione of Selena’s music when she was still singing with her siblings.

_ “I’m Osmin,” _ said the boy. He seemed to be talking to her chest rather than her.  _ “Want to dance?” _

_ “I do want to dance,” _ said Hermione.  _ “Just not with you.” _

She strode out onto the dance floor and tapped on Josefina’s shoulder.  _ “May I cut in?” _

Josefina grinned and stepped to the side. Hermione kissed Cedric lightly and began dancing with him.

“Having fun?” she asked.

“Loads,” he said. “These parties are great.”

“Expensive too,” said Hermione. “It’s a good thing the next one is the youngest triplets. Manolo will get a party, but men's dresses are significantly cheaper. Gotta love the pink tax."

 

Cedric threw his head back and laughed.

They danced and danced until the younger children and the old ladies needed to go home. Diego would drive everyone who was ready to leave home in the bus and then drive back to the party and stay until it officially ended.

“Alright,” said the lead singer. “Let’s mix this up a little. Ladies make a circle, gentlemen make a circle around them. Girls go clockwise, boys counterclockwise. When you hear the whistle, dance with whoever you are next to.”

“Sounds like fun,” said Hermione.

“Actually, I think I’ll rest a little,” Cedric said apprehensively. “Have some cake.”

“I’ll sit with you,” she said.

“I know you want to dance,” he said. “It’ll just be for a song or two.”

“Alright, if you’re sure,” said Hermione.

“Tell you what,” he said. “If you’re with someone you can’t stand, just shout ‘Express’ and I’ll come running.”

“You got it,” she said, kissing his cheek and running to join the ladies’ circle.

A jovial song played as they went around in circles. A whistle blew and there was a little confusion as partners were grabbed. Hermione tugged on the closest hand and Viktor fell through the ranks.

“Ah, so we dance again,” she said.

“It seems so, yes,” he said with a smile. “I am afraid I still cannot mambo.”

“It’s alright,” she said. “How are you enjoying D.R.?”

“Oh, I love it here. I will be sad to go next week.”

“Leaving so soon?”

He nodded. “I only have so much time off from… well, Zaza calls it work.”

“If you do it frequently and get paid for it, it’s a job,” said Hermione.

“Can I tell you secret?”

“Of course,” said Hermione. “I’ve gotten rather good at keeping secrets.”

“I am going to ask Esperanza to come with me,” he said. “I am certain she is the one.”

Hermione grinned. “Anyone else know?”

“I was just going to tell Cedric, I see him as best friend..”

“Cedric is amazing with secrets.”

“Mix!” the lead singer called.

The circles were set back up. Hermione hummed with the music, thrilled to have the first knowledge. Viktor didn’t exactly state he was going to propose, but he wanted to be with Esperanza. Oh, it was so romantic.

A whistle blew and a hand gripped onto Hermione’s wrist. Ugh, it was Osmin.

_ “Looks like we got our dance after all,” _ he said.

“Ugh, not you,” said Hermione.

“Uh-uh, rules say you have to dance.”

The box was too tight and she couldn’t see Cedric to call for his help. Her only chance was to dance her way out.

“So,” he said. “You sound like you’re not from here.”

“Not exactly,” she said.

“Well, if you’re unfamiliar with the area,” he said. “I’d be more than happy to show you around.”

“I’m sure you would,” she said, forcing sarcasm to cover her anxiety. “As I said, I have a boyfriend and he is better than you in every way.”

“You haven’t even given me a chance yet,” he said, grabbing onto her arm.

“EXPRESS!” Hermione shouted.

Cedric broke through the crowd and nearly bowled over Osmin as he skidded to a stop in front of her.

“You bellowed?”

“I think I’ll take a break, too,” she said. “It’s getting a little stuffy.”

Cedric narrowed his eyes at Osmin. “This bloke giving you trouble?”

“Yes, but don’t make a scene or Esperanza will have your other arm,” she replied, leaving the mass of dancers. They both got some water and sat down at one of the tables.

“You know, I wouldn’t have to make a scene,” said Cedric.

“I know you wouldn’t,” she said. “Osmin most definitely would.”

“How did a bloke like him get in in the first place?”

“One of his relatives is probably friends with one of my relatives,” she said. “Or he’s a party crasher. I think there are more people now than there were when people started leaving.”

“It’s easy to crash big parties,” said Cedric, adding, “So I’d assume.”

“Mm…”

They rested for a bit until the mixer was done and regular dancing had gone on, this time a bit slower. Hermione was more than happy to sway back-and-forth with her arms draped around Cedric’s neck and her forehead touching his.

“So, I’ve been thinking…” she said. “And I’ve been talking to Cecilia. So, maybe, I can go back to England when you do and then leave just a few days before school starts. I can spend some time with you.”

“I was invited to stay with Sirius and Harry,” he said.

“Perfect, I can spend some time with my foster brother, too,” she said. “I can see my parents once more before I’m thousands of kilometers away."

“I’d like that,” he said. “We’ve got two more weeks in paradise.”

“And we’ll make the most of— ouch!” She stumbled and the strap on her shoe snapped. “Oh, these are my favorite dancing shoes…” she groaned, studying her foot. “Have they really worn out so quickly? Ugh, I’m going to go find Esperanza and see if she has a quick fix.”

“Okay, I’ll go sit,” he said. “Maybe have one of those mini-empanadas.”

“Alright,” she said squeezing his hand before going off to find Esperanza.

She found her in the loo, taking her hair down.

“There you are,” said Hermione. “Can you help me? My shoe broke.”

“Did you cast a repairing charm?”

Hermione paused and slapped her forehead making Esperanza laugh. Hermione sighed, sat on the counter, extended her leg in front of her, and cast the charm on her shoe. The strap fixed itself and looked as good as new.

“I think you should take a little break from dancing,” Esperanza suggested. “The party’s almost over anyway.”

“Is it really that late?” Hermione asked.

Esperanza nodded. “I was thinking tomorrow might be a fun spa day. Anyone is welcome and we can set up in someone’s bedroom.”

“That does sound fun,” said Hermione. “Would Renata be willing to grow my hair back out? Honestly, I miss it.”

“I can do that,” said Renata, exiting a stall and washing her hands.

“Aces!”

When they left the loo, Hermione searched the tables for Cedric but he was nowhere to be seen. So, she checked the snack table but he wasn’t there either. He wasn’t on the dance floor. A bit worried now, she knocked on the men’s loo and called to see if he was in there, but it was only Bembe.

Hm… Where could he have gone?

“I can’t find Viktor,” said Esperanza. “Have you seen him?”

Hermione shook her head. “Could they have gone home?”

“I think they would tell us if they were going home,” said Esperanza.

They asked around.

“I saw them,” said Linda. “They were chatting and then Osmin came up and said something that made Cedric mad. Then two other of Osmin’s friends came up and said something that made Viktor mad. Then they left.”

Hermione and Esperanza exchanged looks and hurried to the exit, screeching to a halt when two figures moved in the shadows. Viktor and Cedric stepped into the light looking battered up, their white suits now brown with dirt, and their knuckles swollen.

“What happened?” Hermione demanded. “What did Osmin say to you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Cedric. “We won.”

“No, it does matter,” said Hermione. “This is the second fist fight you’ve gotten into!”

“It’s no big deal!” Cedric huffed. “I’m going home.”

Hermione wrapped her arms around his middle, holding on tightly.

“You’re taking me with you,” she said. “I’ve been trying to be patient and understanding, but you can’t avoid talking about it forever! I’m your best friend, just tell me what’s going on. I can’t read minds like you can.”

His face twisted up and he avoided eye contact as if she  _ could _ read his mind.

“I’m not letting you go,” said Hermione, holding him tighter. “I don’t want to fight, but we are going to talk.”

She didn’t let go of him for the rest of the night and when they got home, he tried to get out of it.

“I’m actually a bit tired,” he said. “Can’t we talk about it in the morning?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “No. We’re talking about this now.” She dragged him through the house, down to the docks, and into the Get Along Boat.

_ “Sail!” _

It took them out a long ways away from the shore but not so far that they could no longer see the house. Hermione tucked her wand in its holster.

“Okay,” she said. “Talk to me.”

He stared at her silently.

“Oh, the quiet game, huh?” she said. “Alright. Just know we’re not going home until you talk to me about…  _ something _ .”

She linked her fingers around her knees and stared him down. She refused to speak again before he did. She recited _ The Little Prince _ in her head and got near the end when he finally spoke up.

“Do you feel sorry for me?” he asked.

Hermione furrowed her brow. “In… what way?”

“Like… about all this,” he said, gesturing to his arm and face.

“I feel sorry that it happened to you,” she said. “I hate that it happened to you and I would happily end whoever did that to you.”

“I noticed you’ve been more affectionate,” he said.

“Yeah, so?” she said.

“You didn’t start being that way until this happened!”

“It’s not because I feel sorry for you,” she said. “I love you and I don’t care who knows it. I don’t care about PDA as much anymore. I mean, I’m not going to be making out with you in front of the family…” It hit her. “Osmin put that thought in your head. That I would only be with you out of pity.”

His silence confirmed it.

“Cedric,” she said. “You’ve known me for ten years. You knew Osmin for ten minutes. He was creeping on me for half the night.”

Cedric ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

“That’s not all,” said Hermione. “I know it isn’t. Cosmetic things… we can fix that. You’ve got an arm that will be ready any day now.”

“I’m having nightmares nearly every night,” he said. “I’m scared of every shadow, I can’t walk into a dark room or anything… I’m scared of how my lycanthropy might affect our relationship. How it will affect you.”

“Cedric,” she said. “I am a black, hispanic, autistic, technically illegal immigrant; a person with No-Majs for parents, and I was raised by muggles. I have just about every single disadvantage a person could have. Only other two I don’t have is: I’m not physically disabled and I’m not gay or bisexual. I mean… I don't think I'm bisexual." She furrowed her brow. "Does it count if it's just Winona Ryder? Oh, and Selena. I’m also certain I would die for Sandra Bullock.”

“Yeah, I got physically disabled and bisexual on the list,” he muttered. “If I told people I liked blokes as well as girls, they’d just think you were a beard. Me being with you doesn't make me any less bi."

Hermione rested her chin on her knees and shivered a little. It was chilly at night.

“Cedric,” she said. “I won’t pretend to know the challenges you’re facing. But I’ll be there for you.”

“What if I hurt you?” he asked. “What if… I… we… you know…”

“What if our relationship keeps on?” she said. “If… we do get married someday?”

He nodded. She could picture him blushing. These were questions that should be kept for when they were both adults, but now was probably as good a time as any. If she were being honest, with things as they were, she could see a future with him. She wasn't picking out the stationary or anything, but it was a possibility.

“We’ll deal with it then,” she said.

“What if something happens?” he asked. “What… what if I break free? What if I miss a dose?”

“It’ll be okay!” said Hermione. “I’m learning how to be an animagus, okay? I’ll be with you! When I graduate, I’ll be right back by your side and when we have our time together, I won’t let you be along during your transformations.” She grabbed onto his hand with both of hers. “I wish I could be at school with you… you know, maybe—”

“No,” he said. “I won’t ask that of you. You don’t have the best track record at Hogwarts. I want you to be where you’re safe and that’s at Castelobruxo.”

Hermione sighed. “Well, we have our mirrors. I wish I had a way to send you letters instantaneously.”

“You’re right,” said Cedric. “We can make long distance work. We had a friendship last for six years over letter and just a few weeks of hanging out.”

“Exactly,” said Hermione. “I mean, we’d face this bridge when you graduate. You’re getting a job in Japan.”

“Yeah…” said Cedric. “That’s right, I’m set after school!”

Hermione smiled. “Listen, you don’t have to tell me everything that happened in the maze, but I do hope you will talk to me about anything that’s bothering you. I might understand better than you think.”

“I know… it’s just… it’s hard and… I’m so tired and my arm hurts like hell it drives me mad."

“Abuela can make you something that will help you sleep,” said Hermione. “I have my necklace, Esperanza has a bracelet… it’s not, I mean… it won’t stop everything, but it’ll help for the most part. Like medication. It's not always a cure but it hlps takes the weight."

“Alright,” said Cedric. “I’ll give it a try.”

“Good,” Hermione said and leaned forward, kissing him gently. “I don’t know if this’ll help, but you’re still gonna be the hottest boy at Hogwarts.”

Cedric laughed and kissed her again, this time lingering. When they parted Hermione pressed her forehead against his. They were alone. They were never alone. Even if they were alone in a room, there was always the chance someone could walk in and then they’d get that smile that Hermione couldn't name.

Feeling a burst of confidence and desire, Hermione threw her arms around Cedric’s neck and kissed him soundly. He lost balance and fell back against the bottom of the boat.

“Oh! Are you okay?” she asked. “Did you hit your head?”

“I’m brilliant,” he said, breathless and a little stunned.

“Okay, good.” She pulled him back in.

A swirl of emotions filled her chest and stomach. Giddiness, euphoria, bliss.

“Did you hear that?” Cedric asked.

Hermione tipped her head and only heard the water lapping on the side of the boat. Odd that Cedric would hear something she didn’t. Wait… there it was. A low rumble.

“I hear it,” she said. “What is that?”

She looked over her shoulder. There was no moon and the stars were quickly being blocked out by clouds. A flash of light lit up a haze that was fast approaching. Hermione scrambled for her wand and nearly dropped it. She tapped it against the mass.

_ “Sail!” _

The boat turned and made its way back to shore. However the storm was faster. Hermione shrieked as cold water poured down over them. She stayed put until they made it to the dock. By then it was raining so hard they might as well have been walking through a waterfall. Lightning was illuminating the sky every few seconds and the thunder was growing louder by the instant.

Hermione carefully got out and scrambled onto the dock with Cedric not too far behind. They practically crawled up the stone stairs hoping they wouldn’t slip. Luckily, the doors were unlocked.

“I thought Esperanza’s clothes were waterproof,” said Cedric.

“They’re water  _ resistant _ ,” said Hermione. “I don’t think jumping into the ocean is included.”

“We didn’t jump into the ocean,” he said.

“We might as well have.”

“Did you two have fun?”

Hermione jumped sky high and Cedric drew his wand.

A lamp switched on and Abuela rested her hands in her lap.

“I was worried when I saw that you were adrift,” she said, gesturing to the clock. “Did you have fun?”

“We talked some things out,” said Hermione.

“Mm… I hear from Diego that Osmin and his gang were found beat up in an alley.”

“He deserved it,” said Cedric. “Besides, he was caught in a catch-22. If he beat me up, he beat up a disabled man, but I beat him so he just got his ass beat by a disabled man.”

Hermione snorted.

“Why, did he deserve it?”

“He made some… comments,” said Cedric. “About Mimi and then Noa and another to Viktor about Esperanza. We decided to take care of this matter outside the party so that Esperanza wouldn’t kill us for tarnishing the quinceañera.”

“Mm, yes,” said Ximena. “Hers was crashed halfway through and a fight broke out. Their weapons of choice started with food before turning to wands.”

“Do fights often break out at quinceañeras?” Cedric asked.

“Only Sanchez quinceañeras,” she replied cheerfully. “I  _ started _ the fight at mine. See, this girl was dancing with the boy who was  _ my _ date. I pushed her, called her a name, she brought up my family’s curse, so I punched her in the face. That boy would later become my husband. Samsó. I miss him every day.”

“I didn’t get into a fight at my quinceañera,” said Hermione, shivering from the cold. “I might have though if I hadn’t made Ron promise to say anything negative.”

Ximena nodded. “Well, you two are ruining the carpet. Go on and get warm.”

“Gracias, Abuela,” said Hermione.

The storm was too bad for either to take a shower unfortunately.

“I’ve got a little idea,” said Hermione. “I’ll meet you back out here once I’m done changing.”

A crack of thunder rang through the house, nearly sending Hermione to her knees. She grabbed onto Cedric and placed a hand over her heart. She wasn’t afraid of storms, but really bad ones tended to make her uneasy. If this storm raged on into Sunday, she was _ not _ going to church and they couldn’t make her.

Two screams rang out. Hermione and Cedric acted first, bursting into the children’s room.

“Everyone alright?” Hermione asked, flicking her fingers to create a bubble of pink light. Rafaela and Salome were sitting upright in bed and crying. Melanie was sleeping away soundly, unaware of her sisters’ distress.

Manolo appeared around his divide looking a bit scared as well. He spotted the teenagers and blinked in surprise.

“Why are you all wet?” he asked.

“Decided to go for a swim,” Cedric deadpanned.

“In your party clothes?”

“Formal swimming.”

Tío Greg squeezed between the teenagers and strode over to his children.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Papí’s here.”

Hermione left her light and went with Cedric to their rooms. She was still shivering and she really didn’t want to get a cold.

“You’re up late,” Bianca commented as she entered the room.

“Could say the same for you,” said Hermione, entering the bathroom to change out of her dress. Unsure of what else to do with it, she hung it over the railing of one of the showers hitting the other side with a loud  _ splat! _

She wrapped up in her dressing gown and put her hair in a towel.

“Big storm out,” said Josefina.

“I know,” said Hermione, climbing the stairs to get to her quadrant.

She closed the curtains and changed into her nightgown and some warm knee high socks, then dried her hair with a charm. A thought occurred to her. It was a little silly, but she decided to give it a try. She grabbed her pillow, carefully scaled down the bunk stairs, and went to Cedric’s room, ignoring the giggles from her cousins. She lightly knocked on the door and Cedric answered a moment later wrapped up in his own dressing gown.

“I, um,” she felt her ears grow warm. “I thought we could switch pillows. Maybe it’ll, I don’t know… help.”

He smiled and kissed her lightly. “Brilliant idea.” He took her pillow and placed it on his bed before making the trade.

“Goodnight,” she said.

“Goodnight.”

Parting, Hermione went back to her room. She felt a wave of exhaustion come over her. Her scalp ached, her feet even more so. She was still feeling cold, so she hurried to her bed and wrapped up in her blanket.

“Where  _ were _ you and Cedric?” Bianca asked.

“We needed to discuss a few things,” Hermione replied. “That’s all I’m at liberty to say.”

“Alright.”

Hermione curled up, pressed her face into Cedric’s pillow, and breathed in his scent. Fresh laundry and bergamot. Even though he hadn’t been on the farm in a while, she could have sworn she smelled hay in the sunshine. Wrapping her arms around it, her eyes drooped shut despite the rumbling thunder and rain pounding at her window.


	8. Chapter... Who's Keeping Track At This Point?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm losing my mind. I keep thinking I only have six chapters up.  
> Also, I'm moving so expect future delays. I have, like, 32 more chapters lined up except one that just isn't written. I'll get to it. I also need to expand other chapters.

The weather didn’t look like it was going to let up anytime soon. Luckily, those who were needed at work could apparate. Everyone else would just remain indoors. The problems with having rooms on the roof meant the chance of getting wet just by going to breakfast. Luckily, a canvas cover was erected to shelter Mama Florencía, Esperanza, and the Architects when they went inside the house.

Despite the violence of the storm, Cedric slept peacefully for once. When he woke up, he still hurt like he always did, but he wasn’t as cranky. Maybe it was Hermione’s idea that worked. It wasn’t a permanent fix, but he always did feel calmer with her. When she wasn’t on a mission for justice. Okay, so maybe he was calm around her 30% of the time.

He sleepily climbed out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom before going downstairs to breakfast still in his pajamas. He wasn’t alone, nearly everyone else was in their pajamas, too, looking rather sluggish as they drank their morning coffee.

Though the storm wasn’t as violent as it was last night, it was still enough to keep everyone indoors.

“You know what I think today calls for?” said Tía Manola. “A spa day. For everyone.”

“Ooh, yes,” said Esperanza. “I love spa days. Where should we hold it?”

“How about the meditation room?”

“We can set up,” said Cecilia, nodding at her triplets, Juana and María.

“Yay! Spa day!” said Hermione, clapping her hands. “Viktor, Cedric no getting out of this.”

“There is no makeup involved?” Viktor asked, lightly touching his face and wincing.

“No,” said Cecilia. “Just face masks. Every man needs to know how to take care of himself. Women love hygiene.”

Cedric nodded. “They do.”

Eyes turned towards him.

“I dated before Hermione,” he said defensively. “I got dates because I’m hygienic and was handsome. I couldn’t hold down a girlfriend my fifth year because one) they were expecting to put up with Quidditch talk and then they realized I was a geek. Two) I was slowly falling in love with Hermione and didn’t realize it.”

Hermione smiled and rested her cheek against his shoulder for a moment.

Just about everyone gathered into the meditation room for spa night; many wore swimsuits under dressing gowns. They had a sauna now, so that was running. The doors were also open to let in the fresh smell of rain but charms were put up to keep it out of the room. They had pillows, nail supplies, masks, combs, and Renata had set up a chair so she could give haircuts. Plus trays of snack foods they could get into at any time were set up on the table.

Cedric hated to admit that his meticulous grooming routine had gone lax. It was just… hard with only one hand. It took him three times as long to get ready. In the shower, he just dropped things. Maite, Ana, and Elisa took this into account and had a tray for him to put his shampoo and conditioner and soap on. Putting  _ on _ the shampoo and conditioner was an issue on its own. For now he was just pouring it straight on his head and hoping it wouldn’t get in his eyes.

Everything was harder.

He sat down next to Hermione.

“So, what are spa days like?” he asked.

“We just relax and hang out.”

“Last spa day was when Herminia realized she had a crush on you,” said Paula as she studied nail polish colors.

Cedric couldn’t help but smile. He looked at Hermione who had that face where she was both embarrassed and bashful so she just held her head at an angle and looked like she was trying not to smile or nervously laugh.

“I wonder what revelations will happen today then,” he joked.

Celeste kicked back on a chair and rested a hand on her stomach.

“I feel like I’m ready to pop,” she groaned. “This baby better come soon.”

“She will come,” said Diego, sitting down and putting one of her feet in his lap for a massage.

“I’m telling you, it’s a boy,” she said.

“I told you, the baby will come during a storm,” said Antonella, pointing at the raging storm. “The bones say so.”

"She's a Seer," Hermione told Cedric. "A real one, not like Professor Trelawney."

“There’s bets going around as to what gender the baby will be,” said Renata. “We’re not allowed to bet money, Abuela’s rules. So, we bet chores and sometimes goods. Like, I bet intricate hairstyles, Esperanza bets outfits, Juana bets jewelry, that sort of thing.”

"What if the baby is born intersex?" Cedric asked. "Who would win then?"

"One of my sisters was intersex," Mama Florencía mused. "We had a cousin who was a transgender woman.”

There was silence and then bet changes.

"No bet," said Cedric when asked.

“Smart,” said Hermione, dipping a brush into a jar filled with a sweet smelling, pinkish-yellow concoction. “Lean forward.”

“What’s this?” he asked as she smeared it over his face. It was cool and tingled a little, but not in a bad way.

“Honey, pineapple, and jélvre,” she replied.

“Jélvre?”

“It’s a plant a bit like aloe vera,” she said, making sure she covered all his face.

“Put some on his arm, too,” said Noa.

Hermione looked at his residual limb and dipped the brush, raising her eyes up at him expectantly. Sighing a little, he pulled the sock he was using to cover it off. It still looked raw from where it was sealed with the dittany, but it wasn’t inflamed. She furrowed her brow and winced.

_ That looks like it hurts, _ she thought loudly without intending to. He felt a bit of relief she didn’t find it gross or disturbing.

Their talk last night did them good. It did  _ him _ good. He didn’t even know why he was so scared to share it. Who would understand his newly cursed existence than a family who had been cursed for centuries? He and Hermione had similar baggage. They could carry it together.

“What?” Hermione asked, looking up at him as she brushed the paste on. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he replied. The paste burned for a moment before going cool and, for once, it didn’t hurt.

“Stop eating it!” Esperanza laughed.

Viktor was scraping the avocado mask off his face with carrot sticks and eating it.

“What?” he said. “It is tasty!”

“You’re not supposed to eat it,” said Esperanza, filling in the gaps with her brush.

“What flavor is yours?” he asked, eyeing the lumpy, beige paste on her face.

“I won’t say!”

“I dare you to lick her!” said Noa.

“Don’t you dare!” Esperanza shouted in vain which turned into a squeal when Viktor licked her cheek.

“Oatmeal,” he said with a straight face.

Laughter erupted. Cedric laughed and glanced at Hermione.

“Don’t lick me,” she warned. “My mask is made with clay.”

“Good to know,” he replied.

Everyone used sugar scrubs on their arms and legs as well. It was oddly satisfying to rub it into the skin. It was supposed to exfoliate which was just a fancy word for, ‘it will make your skin smooth like a dolphin.’

"May I use more of that jélvre?" Viktor asked.

"Why?" Esperanza asked. "Where do you need it?"

Viktor paused. "Okay, don't freak out when you see them. The person who did this has been missing since Final Task."

 

“I promise,” said Esperanza

Viktor waved his wand over his forearm.  _ "Avslöja." _

Where his skin once looked smooth was now ridged and dipped with old and recent-looking scars like craters. The family gasped at the sight and Esperanza looked furious.

"Karkaroff would do this to you?" she whispered.

"He would do this to everyone," said Viktor. "I told you, Durmstrang was tough school. We would have morning runs on mountain paths and students could choose ballet or wrestling to assist with—”

"My love… tough is not accepting late work when you have homework due every single class," said Esperanza, mixing up a similar concoction to what Cedric had on his face. "Tough is putting three days worth of material in one hour. Beating children who are entrusted in your care and working them until they collapse is not tough, it's child abuse. Your parents never…"

"No," said Viktor. "They did not believe in physical discipline. If we were bad, they would send us to grandmama. She would have us run laps or do tightrope. Sometimes we had to stand absolutely still and balance objects on head or hand."

"My mother liked to use the chancla," said Mama Florencía.

"I remember," said Abuela Ximena. "You never used it."

"It didn't change my behavior, why should I have expected it to change yours?"

The conversation steered away from the horrors Viktor faced.

Hermione helped Cedric with the fine grooming, even going as far as to trim, file, and buffer his nails. At least his feet weren’t disgusting. That would just be embarrassing.

"Can I paint my nails, too?" he asked. "It's totally punk."

"Sure. What color?"

He pointed to a dark metallic polish.

"Bronze Aztec it is," she said, shaking it.

Viktor got a similar treatment and was taught how to do this himself by Esperanza after much insistence on her part, though he declined having his nails painted.

“Why do you have that jélvre stuff on your hands?” Cedric asked Hermione curiously.

She shrugged and tugged on the glove that was protecting it. It was supposed to do something but she wasn’t going to say just in case it didn’t work. He didn’t push. She knew when he was pushing. She could feel it more and more each day. The training she was doing with her abuela was really amazing.

Cedric was learning a lot, too. He learned so much this past month-and-a-half. Things he never would have learned had he stayed in England.

“Okay,” said Renata. “Who wants hair done?”

“Cedric and I do,” said Hermione. “We’re growing our hair out.” She looked at him. “You did want to try it long, right?”

He nodded and hoped Hermione would find him attractive with long hair. It would take a while to grow, however, and his hair was getting into that awkward stage.

“Okay,” said Renata, turning to examine a tray of potions and products. “Once he’s cleaned up, stick him in my chair.”

Being pampered was an entirely new experience. He figured it was best to embrace it rather than argue and lose. Once Hermione cleaned his face and arm up with a warm, damp washcloth, he sat down in the chair.

“You have a lot of hair,” Renata commented, running her fingers through his locks. “Has a bit of a wave, but not so much and it seems like it doesn’t get frizz. It’s a nice shade of black. Almost looks a little blue, doesn’t it?”

“I’ve never noticed,” he said truthfully.

“Hm…” she clicked her tongue and studied his facial structure. “Your cheekbones could cut cheddar.”

“So I’ve been told,” he said. He was rather proud of his cheekbones and felt they were his most distinct feature.

“Strong jaw… hm… decent sized forehead… Yes. I know what to do.”

She grabbed a comb and a spray bottle, making his hair damp as she combed it through to get out any tangles. Then, she massaged an odd smelling oil into his scalp, it tingled and his head felt heavier. He tipped his head forward and several locks of hair fell into his face. Whoa… He knew of a few hair charms, but not potions that could grow it out to a significant length with no side-effects.

Renata washed his hair thoroughly and squeezed it with a towel to get the extra water out. It felt good to have a clean scalp. Cedric watched the rest of the room as his hair was cut.

Everyone was having fun and it was keeping the little ones distracted from the storm. Though, Melanie was more keen on watching the rain than having her mum or dad paint her nails a pretty color.

“Celeste and I are still arguing on baby names,” said Diego.

“Just throw some names at us,” said Celeste.

“Maybe you can keep a trend,” said Esperanza. “Use music terms like Viola… Harmony… Melody…”

“Cadence,” suggested Viktor. “Carol.”

“Clef if it’s a boy,” said Hermione.

“Agitato,” Cedric threw in.

“Oboe player,” said Noa.

“F sharp,” Cedric added.

Everyone jumped in with musical terms that were increasingly more and more ridiculous.

“Plagal!”

“Smorzando!”

“Canon in inversion and augmentation,” said Mama Guadalupe.

“♮” said Cecilia.

“How did you do that with your mouth?” Viktor whispered and everyone laughed.

Renata gave Cedric a fringe similar to how he used to wear it before he cut it short. She checked for evenness and spent about twenty minutes making small changes here and there. She ran her fingers through it with product to style it a bit, then nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “I like it. Herminia, what do you think? You’re the one who has to look at him.”

Hermione looked up and swooned, a goofy grin pulling at her lips. Cedric smiled, any nervousness about his hair drifting away. Judging by the reactions from the others, his hair looked good.

“Alright,” said Noa. “I need you to cover your eyes. Can someone blindfold him?”

“I gotcha,” said Cecilia, bringing over an eye mask, which she immediately strapped on him.

It was cold, heavy, and smelled like lavender.

“Okay,” said Noa when she returned. “Hold out your arm. No, your other arm.”

Bemused, he did as she asked and held out his right arm. There was a slight numbness and then the feeling as if he were being drawn on with a pen. When it ebbed, a different type of sock was placed over his limb and then something was pushed on over that. He felt the same phantom limb sensation he got too frequently, except this time it didn’t hurt. He could almost believe he was twitching his fingers.

“Okay,” said Noa, removing the mask. “Open your eyes.”

He did and looked down at his arm, gasping slightly at the sight. A new prosthetic was put on and it was much more comfortable and a better fit than the old one. It was almost a mirror copy of his left hand, except it was obviously made of metal and he could see the joints.

“State of the art,” said Noa, eyes bright as she spoke. “It moves in real time with your thoughts and it has basic nerves so you know that you are touching something, though it can’t feel hot or cold and it can’t distinguish textures yet. I bet you could find someone who makes synthetic skin to cover it with, especially since it'll get really hot in the sun. You’ll have to practice with it, too. I recommend the piano, and we have a number of guitars you can use.”

Cedric twitched the fingers one at a time, made a fist, then spread his hand wide. He turned it over, inspecting it with disbelief while Noa talked about the features.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

He nodded and blinked back tears. “It’s brilliant.” He gave her a giant hug. “Thank you! It’s wonderful.”

“Good,” said Noa. “I’m glad you like it. Okay, now you can look at the rest of you.”

Renata turned him towards the wall that was entirely mirror so yoga or tai chi forms could be checked.

“Whoa,” he said and got up so he could step closer and see himself better.

His hair was long, about to his shoulder blades. It looked  _ good _ , a small bit of him thought it was a little… roguish. A bit pirate-like. All he needed was the outfit. But his face. The scars that had marred his appearance and constantly reminded him of what happened were smooth and faded. When his tan went away he bet they would disappear entirely.

He touched his face lightly and laughed. While his inside couldn’t be fixed, the cosmetic changes alone gave him some of his confidence back and not having to be reminded of what happened every time he looked in the mirror.

“I’ll show you how to take care of your hair and skin,” said Renata. “I strapped my arm to my chest and worked out the best way to do it until you get control of your prosthetic.”

“And we’ll go over some exercises,” said Mama Florencía. “Meet me in the Music Room after we’re done here.”

“Alright,” said Cedric and glanced at Mama Florencía’s hands. For the first time, he noticed her right hand was made of wood, it was just colored close to her skin tone and almost moved like a real hand.

“I lost it in a potion accident,” she said before he could ask.  _ “Someone lined my cauldron with bulbadox powder as a prank and didn’t realize I was making a volatile substance to begin with. Boom. Goodbye hand.” _

“Yikes,” he said.

“Viktor, did you want a new hairstyle?” Renata asked as Hermione took a seat in her chair.

Viktor shook his head. “No, I am content with how it is.” He looked at Esperanza for her opinion.

“I can’t picture you with any other haircut,” she said, not looking up from meticulously painting art on her nails. “You look perfect just the way you are.”

Viktor grinned.

Hermione didn’t quite want to go back to her old style, she didn’t care for the short hair, but she wanted to do something different.

Cedric watched her for a little bit and didn’t voice his opinion. Mostly because he thought she’d look great no matter what, and he learned from his years of having friends who were mostly girls that, ‘I think you look good in anything,’ is not an appropriate response to, ‘What do you think?’

“I think now is a good time,” said Mama Florencía. “Come on, Cedric.”

Cedric got to his feet and left the Meditation room with Hermione’s great-grandmother. Everyone else stayed behind to mess with hair or nails, or just sit and meditate.

_ “The phantom pain won’t go away entirely,” _ said Mama Florencía.  _ “It will hurt. I know it isn’t comforting, but I won’t sugar coat any of this. The world is made for two hands, so you’ll always be adapting. Prosthetic or no prosthetic.” _

Cedric nodded to show he was listening.

They used the elevator to get to the ground floor rather than the stairs. Mama Florencía was getting on in age and didn’t like to waste energy if she could help it.

When they entered the parlor, she opened the closet and brought out two guitars, one simple and plain and the other beautifully decorated.

_ “Do you play?” _ she asked.

_ “Yes,” _ he said.  _ “I am well-versed in many instruments after mind-numbing practice sessions. I do like to play the guitar and the piano, however, and Hermione gave me this flute in the shape of a badger for my birthday a couple years back.” _

_ “Good, so I don’t have to teach you that,” _ she said.  _ “We can move on.” _

Cedric took the simple guitar and sat down across from Mama Florencía.

_ “Now, playing the guitar will help with dexterity and control,” _ said Mama Florencía, playing a soft, ongoing tune.  _ “I do this warm-up almost every morning when I put on my prosthetic. I don’t actually need to anymore, but it’s good to, yes?” _

_ “Yes,” _ said Cedric, looking down at his hands. He could strum just fine, the thing would be to get the chords right. It was just… weird. He knew what he wanted to do… he could see what he was doing… there was a sensation… but it just wasn’t the same. It was like wearing a really thick glove over his entire forearm. It hurt to move his fingers as his brain tried to decide what was real and what was fake.

_ “It’s okay,” _ said Mama Florencía, noting his growing frustration.  _ “It will take time to get used to it.” _

Cedric rested his chin on the guitar and sighed through his nose. Well… it was nice having some of his old confidence back, even if for a little while.

He sat and talked with Mama Florencía for a while. She was really cool and had, as she said, “seen a lot of shit.” Apparently, for the longest time, Sanchez women were Healers, Seamstresses, and Broommakers. It was with her daughters that they diverged into other careers. She was also the youngest of her four sisters. Her eldest sister had passed and her triplets, Imelda and Mayerlin, left and had their own families in New York and Mexico. She wrote to them once a month and saw them at weddings.

“Listen, Cedric,” Mama Florencía placed a hand on his shoulder, “you always have a safe place here. No matter what happens between you and Herminia, you’ll have refuge.”

“Thank you, Mama Florencía,” he said.

“Cedric!” Hermione shrieked.

He jumped to his feet. “What? What’s wrong?”

She ran into the room grinning broadly.

“Look at my hair!” She pointed to it. “Look! Look! Look!"

Her hair had indeed undergone a transformation. It was back to the length it was before she had her unexpected haircut, but only on most of her head. A section on her left side had been shaved almost completely off, and what was left had designs shaved in not unlike her papá’s tattoos.

“Isn’t it just the awesomest?” she said, her mind trying to come up with words to describe the sheer joy she felt about having a unique style.

Cedric was blown away.

“Wicked,” he breathed. “Let me see.”

She sat down next to him and Mama Florencía stood giving them both a nod.

“Tavi,” she said as she left the room. “Come and have tea with me.”

Cedric traced the ocean pattern with his fingers.

“I love it,” he said. “Oh, when everyone back in England sees—”

Oh… right…

Hermione bit her lip. “Well, I was thinking… Cecilia is being temporarily transferred to Gringotts in Britain this August. Perhaps… I mean… I could come too and leave a few days before school starts, and then I could come home with Cecilia, that way we get a bit more time together and I can see everyone one last time, including my parents. What do you think?”

Cedric hugged her. “Sounds brilliant.”

Hermione’s mental calendar began working, determining how long she could possibly stay in England before she had to return for school. Then she began a checklist of things she wanted to accomplish before they had to part, and from there on it just got too busy and fast for him to follow.

“You don’t have to keep hugging me,” she said.

“Do you want me to stop?” Cedric asked.

“No.”

He held her tighter, pressing his face into her hair. He didn’t want to think about the end of summer yet.

~o0o~

Just a few days after getting his new prosthetic, Cedric felt like he was having more control and so started working on a commission in the workshop. It felt amazing to be back in a workshop with his papers and his devices, even if it was slow going. He missed this and found that his right hand made neater runes. He’d had practice writing with his right hand, so it wasn’t too weird and he could actually make the runes smaller. Abuela taught him several charms to keep them from wearing down over time, which was pretty cool.

A knock came at the door and Juana looked up from her work, annoyed.

_ “What?” _ she shouted.

Cedric looked over his shoulder to see Hermione enter the room.

_ “Celeste went into labor,” _ she said.  _ “Thought you should know.” _

_ “Oh, that’s great!” _ said Juana, grinning.  _ “Keep me updated.” _

“Wait,” said Cedric. “What do we do?”

“We? Nothing,” said Hermione. “I asked Tía Manola and she said just let Angela, Celeste, and Diego be. Apparently, giving birth is awkward, especially with everyone trying to, er… get a look.”

“Oh,” said Cedric.

“Diego will keep us updated,” said Hermione. “It’ll be hours.”

She waved and left.

A baby was important. Cedric could see that Hermione was freaking out on the inside but everyone else was being calm about it, so she would, too. He found himself a good stopping point and went inside to find everyone who wasn’t working waiting around in the family room, Hermione included.

“How long do these things take?” Hermione asked.

“Mm… hours,” said Ximena. “It could be all day. You were ready to get out, you were born in six hours. Esperanza took nineteen and Noa, Josefina, and Bianca took ten hours in total.”

“So, basically, it varies,” said Cedric, glancing at the time-clock beside the family tracking-clock.

It was still early afternoon. Everyone was prepared to wait, but Cedric knew waiting would get boring quick. He looked at Viktor who was pretending to read while periodically glancing at Esperanza’s embroidering.

Biting back a grin, he popped his arm off, approached Viktor and threw his arm down like a gauntlet. Viktor jumped, startled, and looked up.

“I challenge you to a rematch duel and Seeker’s Bombardment,” said Cedric.

Hermione giggled.

The corner of Viktor’s mouth twitched. “I accept your challenge.”

“Ohhh, we got a duel!” Noa shouted. “Everyone to the Quidditch Pitch!”

Cedric grinned and picked up his arm, putting it back on. It hurt a bit to do that, but it was worth it.

About two-and-a-half dozen girls from the nearby school were on the field playing fútbol and looking like they were having the time of their lives. The oldest seemed to be about Viktor’s age and the rest were as young as four or five. Their playing slowed and they smiled and waved at the group of witches. Cedric remembered that these girls, though they were all No-Majs, knew of magic.

The youngest girls approached Salome, Rafaella, and Melanie and they ran off to go play their own game on the sidelines.

A girl who seemed to be the leader approached them, the football tucked under her arm.

_ “You joining today?” _ she asked.

_ “Not today, Cendy,” _ said Esperanza.  _ “These two boys are having a duel and then a round of Seeker’s Bombardment.” _

_ “Seeker’s Bombardment is the best!” _ said Cendy. She relayed the message and everyone ran off the field, sitting down on the ground or cramming onto benches to eagerly watch.

Cedric and Viktor decided to do Seeker’s Bombardment first since they didn’t know where the duel would take them. Eva presented them with two brooms that would keep it equal. Cedric thought it was rather nice and had a good feel to it, but he preferred his Velozmente.

Hermione blindfolded him and pressed a light kiss to his lips before spinning him around in circles to disorient him.

“Good luck,” she said. “I’ll try not to hit you.”

Cedric chuckled. “I appreciate that.”

“The snitch has been released!” said Esperanza. “Countdown, everyone!”

Everyone chanted the countdown. The blindfolds were removed and Cedric quickly blinked and squinted against the sunlight flooding the Pitch and making the dirt shine as if it were gold. He mounted his broom and took off into the air already scanning for the snitch.

A bright yellow ball smacked him in the forehead and laughter bubbled up from the sea of girls.

“¡NO PARE SIGUE SIGUE!” Hermione shouted.

Cedric and Viktor zoomed around the pitch chasing after the snitch and dodging the upward hail of foam balls.

The snitch zipped up so Cedric and Viktor followed it, flying higher and higher into the quintessential blue sky, trying not to be blinded by the sun, and keeping their sweaty hands on the grips Eva kindly remembered to put in. Neither boy was used to this type of heat and Cedric, having the fortune of being in a tropical climate for longer, was more adjusted.

Cedric stretched his metal fingers out, reaching forward as far as he could without steering the broom wrong, and then his hand clamped shut around the golden snitch. He slowed to a stop and looked into his palm in amazement.

“Holy shit!” he said and looked at Viktor who was completely stunned. “HOLY SHIT!”

“Good game,” said Viktor, cracking a grin.

Cedric cheered in triumph. “I JUST BEAT THE BEST SEEKER IN THE WORLD!”

“As I said,” said Viktor as they drifted back to the ground. “You could go professional.”

“I love Quidditch,” said Cedric. “But I don’t really see it as a career, you know?”

“That is fair,” said Viktor.

“If you didn’t do Quidditch, what would you do?” Cedric asked.

Viktor thought about it. “Linguistics."

“Cool.”

They landed and Cedric held out his hand proudly to show the snitch.

“Ooh! I’m so proud of you!” said Hermione, throwing her arms around his neck.

“I will win next time,” said Viktor. “Have to train harder now.”

“You got it,” said Cedric, winking at him.

“Use the spell  _ lumos gladius _ ,” Hermione whispered in his ear. “I made it up.”

“Alright, thanks,” he said.

“Are you ready to duel?” Esperanza shouted and cheers rose up from the crowd.

“I’m ready,” said Cedric, looking at Viktor.

Viktor nodded and took his wand out of its holster.

After barriers were put up to protect everyone outside the duel, Cedric and Viktor bowed, took ten paces, and readied.

“Three… two… one… DUEL!” Hermione shouted.

_ “LUMOS GLADIUS!” _ The two boys shouted.

From Cedric’s wand came a sword of silver light and, from Viktor’s, a sword of purple light. Merlin, Morgana, and Gandalf, Hermione created a spell for lightsabers. Recovering quickly, Cedric rushed forward, swinging his lightsaber.

Viktor reacted, blocking it. The connection of light created a pretty shower of sparks drawing up “oohs” and “ahhs” from the audience.

Cedric grinned and dueled with Viktor, not bothering to cast any spells yet. They didn’t know where this duel was going to go, but it was fun and neither would admit that whenever one of them pulled a fancy trick, they were doing it to show off for their girlfriends.

“Ha!” Viktor shouted, feinting and tapping Cedric’s arm.

There was a weird shock and his prosthetic fell off. Viktor gasped.

“I am so sorry,” he said and chuckled. “I guess I win?”

“Tis but a scratch,” said Cedric.

“A scratch?” Viktor furrowed his brow. “Your arm, it is off.”

“No it isn’t,” said Cedric, twirling the sword in his hand and grinning.

“What is that, then?” Viktor huffed, pointing to the ground where the prosthetic lay, drumming its fingers on the ground.

“I’ve had worse,” said Cedric.

“Liar,” Viktor retorted.

On the sidelines, Hermione was slowly losing it and trying to stifle her laughter while she audio recorded it and Noa snapped pictures.

“Come on, ya pansy!” Cedric shouted, swinging his wand.

Viktor blocked, parried, and with a thrust, zapped Cedric’s other arm making it go numb.

“Okay,” said Viktor. “I win.”

Unable to hold his wand due to the numbness, Cedric dropped it and began dancing around Viktor.

“Come on, then!” he shouted, kicking at him much to the Bulgarian’s confusion. “Have at you!”

“Cedric, I have won,” said Viktor.

“Had enough, eh?” said Cedric.

“Your arms are out,” said Viktor losing his composure. “Look.”

Cedric stared him dead in the eye and stated, “It’s just a flesh wound,” before kicking his butt lightly.

Viktor snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Chicken!” said Cedric, still kicking him lightly, thrilled that this was all working out brilliantly. “Chicken!”

Viktor gave him a look and tapped out Cedric’s left leg. He hopped on his right.

“Right!” he said, pretending to be affronted. “I’ll do you for that!”

“What?!” Viktor squawked, following up with incredulous laughter. “What can you do?”

Cedric head butted his friend’s shoulder.

“I am invincible!” he declared.

“You’re a loony!” Hermione shouted.

Viktor completely lost it at this point and laughed hysterically, promptly dropping to the ground and hugging his stomach, Hermione raced over and recorded the genuine laughter for Esperanza. Viktor laughed just like the hyenas from  _ the Lion King _ .

The other girls were roaring with laughter. They had never seen Monty Python before so, in their eyes, Cedric was a comic genius. He was okay with that temporary label.

Hermione stopped the recording and wiped the laughter tears from her eyes.

“Call it a draw,” she said.

Cedric chuckled and stood on two legs once more.

“I do need some help, though,” he said. “That spell made my hand and leg numb.”

“I’ve got you,” said Hermione, picking his arm and wand up, cradling them in her arms.

Esperanza helped Viktor to his feet and they cleared the field so a game of baseball could start.

“That was fun,” said Cedric, limping slightly, still not having much feeling in his leg. “We should do that again sometime. It won’t always end in a draw, you know.”

Viktor open his mouth to speak but only snorted and went back to laughing so hard, there was no longer any sound and his shoulders were shaking.

“I wish I had a camcorder,” Hermione giggled. “Still, I audio recorded it and we have pictures.”

“I’m glad you found it funny,” said Cedric. “It just fell in so perfectly.”

“It did!”

“I think he just did it to get to indirect second base,” Bianca joked, glancing to make sure the Mamas didn’t hear her.

Hermione realized how she was holding Cedric’s arm, then glared at her cousin halfway embarrassed and halfway peeved that Bianca’s mind would go to the gutter like that. She was just holding his hand. Literally, but still.

“I think I might go back to the workshop and fill in a few more commissions,” he said.

“Can you feel your limbs, yet?” she asked.

His silence told her all she needed to know. She felt it would be good if they went inside the house, maybe talk Viktor and Esperanza into a game of dominos since everyone else was keen on remaining outdoors. Her hands were aching with weather pain.

“Dominos sounds like fun,” said Cedric. “I think I’ll take my arm back.”

He extended his residual limb. Hermione helped attach it, then glanced up and briefly admired his hair before inviting Viktor and Esperanza back inside for tea and dominos.

Viktor would be leaving tomorrow and, assuming she’d say yes, Esperanza would be following. Cedric really enjoyed having Viktor as a friend and hoped they’d be able to maintain that friendship. It was nice knowing someone outside of Hermione’s family who wasn’t afraid of him.

Tavi was more than happy to make them some tea when they entered the house.

“Hot or iced?” she asked.

“Hot,” said Cedric, answering for everyone.

Tavi nodded and disappeared. Cedric wished he knew what she was thinking but he either couldn’t read the minds of other species or she knew how to block him. He still got emotional reads from her and he saw that she was happy here, which made him happy. Back in England, she was merely content. He realized that now.

It wasn’t until after dinner that they heard anything about the baby.

Everyone was just doing their own thing when they heard the thud of footsteps.

_ “IT’S A BOY!” _ Diego shouted.  _ “IT’S A BOY! IT’S A BOY! IT’S A BOY!” _

“Do you know what his means?” said Ximena. “It means the curse is over for our descendants!”

Within minutes everyone around the house was cheering and hugging. Cedric caught on to the excitement, and whenever anyone grabbed his hands and bounced, he bounced with them. Everyone was eager to see the newborn, but Angela was insistent that Celeste needed her rest and it wouldn’t be good for the baby if they all crowded in there.

“How big is the baby?” Esperanza asked Diego as she held up handfuls of baby clothes she’d made. “Six pounds? Seven?”

“Six,” said Diego. “He has the Sanchez eyes.”

“What’s his name?” Tía Manola asked.

“Ángel.”

“Aww, what a sweet name,” said Hermione.

“I still think you should’ve gone with Smorzando,” said Noa.

Cedric could see ‘baby’ on the minds of everyone. Future or past. Honestly, he had ‘baby’ on the mind, too. He’d always known he wanted to be a father someday. With his lycanthropy… if he couldn’t have biological children, then he’d be just as happy adopting. There were plenty of children out there. Hell, he would adopt even if he could have biological. Like what Roger and Beatrice did.

“I bet he’s absolutely adorable,” said Hermione. “It makes me miss Chibuzo, you know?”

Cedric nodded and couldn’t help but wonder if he and Hermione would make it that far. At this moment in time… he hoped so.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure when I last posted, I’ve been so busy with moving. I’m finally starting the rough draft for book six and I still need to fine tune book five.

Ángel was an absolutely adorable baby. He had cherub cheeks, beautiful brown skin, and the striking Sanchez eyes.

The following day, it was nearly time for Viktor to leave. He couldn’t stay away from his job and responsibilities any longer. Hermione and Cedric knew of his intentions to ask Esperanza to come to Bulgaria with him, so they spent the morning in the flower garden on the roof, because damn them for being nosy. Esperanza had opened all her blinds and looked to be going through orders at her desk.

Viktor appeared at the top of the stairs dressed in nicer attire than he’d been wearing the past two weeks.

“Good luck,” Hermione mouthed.

Viktor smiled and nodded.

Cedric and Hermione sipped their tea and watched out of the corner of their eyes as casually as they could.

Viktor knocked on her door. Esperanza looked up at the flash of light and jumped to her feet to let him in.

“Come to say goodbye before you leave?” she asked, pulling him in and kissing him. “How long until your Portkey?”

“I have some time,” he said. “I actually want to talk to you.”

“Okay,” she said and pulled him in by the hand, pushing the door shut with her foot.

Viktor took a deep breath and signed as he spoke. Who he practiced with, Hermione wasn’t sure, but seeing no hesitation, he must’ve been practicing hard.

“Oh, no…” Cedric whispered.

Esperanza’s eyes had widened and she stepped back to grip her work table tightly. Hermione could see the panic in her cousin’s eyes.

“Of course, she wouldn’t want to leave,” she muttered.

“What? Why?” Cedric asked. “I mean… I wouldn’t want to leave this house, but I would to follow my true love.”

“Yes, but think about what happened to Tía Evita,” said Hermione. “He-Who-Must-Be-Forgotten asked her to leave with him and look how that turned out.”

Realization dawned on his face. “Oh… but Viktor isn’t—”

“We all know he isn’t like that,” said Hermione, glancing to see what Viktor’s reaction was. He wasn’t angry or yelling… but she couldn’t quite see his face. “Esperanza especially knows that, but Cedric, anxiety is a powerful thing. We were looking at it from how we would react, we weren’t actually thinking about how Esperanza would react considering her past.”

“Circe…” Cedric muttered. “And we encouraged Viktor.”

Viktor left Esperanza’s room looking incredibly sad, he approached Hermione and Cedric.

“I hope to see you both again,” he muttered. “If you are ever in Bulgaria, look me up. Cedric, keep in touch?”

“Yeah, I’ll write as often as I can,” said Cedric, holding out his hand.

They slapped palms and punctuated it with a fist bump.

“Herminia, Esperanza needs you,” said Viktor. “I… I am glad we became friends.”

“Me too, Vik,” said Hermione. “See you around.”

Viktor nodded and left.

Hermione jumped to her feet, knocking her chair back in the process, and ran into Esperanza’s room to find her curled up on the floor crying her eyes out and breathing shallowly.

“Hey,” Hermione knelt down. “It’s okay. Shh. Cálmese, cálmese. Tavi.”

“Yes, Miss?” said Tavi, popping into the room.

“Get me a calming draught, please.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“What did I just do?” Esperanza whispered.

“You… did what you had to do I guess,” said Hermione.

~o0o~

Two days after his werewolf transformation, Hermione and Cedric would return to England. In two weeks, Cecilia would come and stay for a couple days before bringing Hermione home on September 1st, since school wouldn't start at Castelobruxo until the 4th. Hermione would stay at Grimmauld place for most of the time so she could hang out with her friends before basically leaving them forever.

Not that they knew that.

Surely they would figure it out when they got their letters and she didn’t. She’d have to tell them eventually.

Their portkey was leaving at early sunset which would bring them to England around eleven. Crookshanks was staying at the house since Portkey travel made him sick and Belle was going home with Cedric.

“Cedric,” said Tavi at their early breakfast. “May I speak with you?”

“Of course, Tavi,” said Cedric, waving his hand to give her the floor.

Tavi took a deep breath, gripping tightly onto the scarf which now served as belt for her pink tunic.

“I have worked for the Willoughby family for sixty years,” she said. “And I have been loving it. Loving you. Until this summer, I never realized how happy I could truly be. With freedom. With making my own choices. And I have made a decision that I would like to tell you.”

“What is it?”

Tavi’s voice shook and she sniffled a little. “Tavi wants to work for the Sanchezes!”

Cedric blinked in surprise. Those who were at breakfast stopped whatever they were doing in shock.

“May I ask why?” Cedric asked neutrally.

“Tavi loves it here,” she said, reverting to old speech habits. “Tavi is finding the ocean peaceful. Tavi loves a big house full of people and children to tend to. Tavi loves gardening with Mama Florencía and helping all the Mamas with things they can’t do anymore. Tavi is loving you very much Cedric, but Tavi feels her purpose is here.”

Cedric nodded slowly. It hurt a little. Tavi was his nanny. She raised him.

“I want you to be happy,” he said, taking her hands. “I could see you have been thriving here and I don’t want to take you away from where you’re happy. I accept your resignation if Abuela Ximena agrees to hire you.”

Tavi looked at Abuela Ximena.

“She has been a help,” said Abuela Ximena, considering it. Finally, she nodded. “Okay. You are hired, Tavi.”

“And I accept your resignation,” said Cedric.

Tavi jumped up and gave him a giant hug which he returned as tight as he dared.

“I'll miss you,” he said.

“I will miss you, too,” she said and smoothed his shirt out. “Make sure you eat three times a day and bathe at  _ least _ every other day. And be a good boy.”

Cedric chuckled and nodded. “I will.”

Tavi patted him on the head and stepped back to stand beside Mama Florencía.

"Here, Cedric," said Tía Manola, handing him a mirror. "This connects to the big one in our family room. Call if you need us, okay? Will you be alright going to the Portkey?”

“Yes, we’ll be fine,” said Hermione, giving out her final hugs. “And you’re sure I can take your bike Renata?”

“I hardly use it anymore,” said Renata. “Besides, it’ll just be back here in two weeks. I can apparate until then.”

“Okay,” said Hermione. “Bye everyone. See you in two weeks, I guess.”

“Thank you so much for having me,” said Cedric, stashing the mirror in his bag. “I’ll miss you all.”

“Don’t forget,” said Mama Antonella. “You are welcome to stay forever.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he replied.

Hermione and Cedric left out the front door and to the electric blue motorcycle that belonged to Renata. Hermione mounted it first, Cedric got on behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

The motorcycle hummed. Revving it once, Hermione kicked the kickstand back and drove out of the parking area slowly before taking off full speed down the rocky path.

The road was worn in a few places creating a smooth rut where the path was taken most. The rest was lumpy with rocks and slick with mud patches from consistent rain. Hermione had only driven the bike a few times, but she knew the path well and had never seen it at sunset.

With a whoop, she revved the engine and sped up making Cedric grip onto her tighter. As soon as they rounded the bend they were greeted by a sight most beautiful neither of them could suppress a sigh of awe. The sky was an explosion of orange and red hues that would turn a phoenix green with envy. Fluffed around the golden sun were iris clouds, chaotic against the fiery sky but created a surreal feeling that couldn't be captured in word, picture, or even painting. The two teenagers were washed in the warm light which reflected off their hair and skin with a golden glow. With the wind blowing through their hair, they nearly felt as if they were flying and invincible.

Hermione grabbed her camera out of her bag while maintaining her steady steering along the curving, rocky path that now reflected the colors of the sun.

"Smile!" she laughed, holding the camera at arm's length and snapping a photo. She quickly stuffed it away and put her hand back on the handle bar, blinking away the dancing blue spots on her vision.

Cedric closed his eyes and buried his face in Hermione’s hair until they reached Luesma. She carefully navigated the streets and busy traffic. It seemed quite a few people had cars in this area even with it being a magical city.

When they reached the transport area, Hermione used her wand to clean the motorcycle and get rid of the exhaust smell then, with some help from Cedric, stuffed it away in her beaded bag. He wondered how much it could hold and wondered if he could test its limits.

Hermione linked her fingers with his and smiled at him. He could feel the pang in her heart as she knew she would have to say goodbye to her home in England alongside the longing to stay here in D.R.

They took the soda bottle from the transport employee and queued up at the platform. There were only two people in front of them so it wasn’t very long.

“Does Britain even have a specified platform for Portkey travel?” Hermione asked.

“I’m not sure,” said Cedric, placing his hand on the bottle.

He felt his stomach lurch and realized he had touched the bottle with his prosthetic which was now painfully slipping. He grabbed onto his metal wrist tightly and gritted his teeth. He was pretty sure he could hear Belle caterwauling in his backpack.

International Portkey travel  _ sucked _ .

Not paying attention, he landed hard on soft dirt and damp grass. They were in a small clearing, the rocks looking an awful lot like gravestones. Shouting in panic, he summoned his wand and scrambled to his feet.

“Cedric!”

He faced Hermione, her face unnaturally pale in the nearly full moon and her hands raised where he could see them. She closed her palms and opened them making two soft orbs of light that showed the clearing was just a clearing.

Cedric lowered his wand but didn’t put it away.

“Where did it dump us?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said and dropped the soda bottle on the ground. “Let’s find a road and call the Knight Bus.”

Cedric nodded in agreement and held his wand flat in his palm.

_ “Point Me.” _

It spun in a circle and pointed straight ahead. Sliding his wand in its holster, Hermione looped her arm with his and stroked his forearm gently with her thumb. They had been dressed for a tropical climate and wherever they landed had them shivering and wishing for sweatshirts.

The road wasn’t too far away from the clearing. Hermione stuck out her right thumb and stepped back. An instant later, the Knight Bus appeared with a loud bang and sputtered to a stop.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus,” Stan Shunpike recited dully.

He was a Fifth Year when Cedric started Hogwarts. Must suck working the night shift on this thing.

“We need to get to—” Hermione faltered and furrowed her brow.

The letter from Sirius was clear. No. 12 Grimmauld Place. Cedric tried to say it too, but found he couldn’t.

“What’s the matter?” Stan asked. “Cat got your tongues?”

Belle spit from her place in Cedric’s backpack.

“Number 13 Grimmauld Place,” said Hermione at last. “Islington Borough, London.”

“Right, take a seat anywhere,” he said after they paid him the fare.

Cedric and Hermione sat on one of the beds like it was a couch and held on tightly.

“Take it away Ern,” said Stan.

“Yeah, take it away Ernie!” the shrunken head said from its perch. Was it even moral to have that thing?

Hermione inhaled sharply as she flew back, thinking loudly that she was glad she was wearing shorts and not a skirt. Cedric held onto her hand and kept the other tight around the bedpost.

“You two don’t look properly dressed,” Stan noted with a gleam of amusement. “Where’d you come from?”

“The Caribbean,” said Hermione.

“Where’s that?”

Hermione opened her mouth, closed it, and looked at Cedric.

“West,” he answered. “And South.”

“Ah.” Stan nodded and cocked his head. “Do I know you?”

“No,” said Cedric, bracing his feet against the floor as the bus slammed to a stop to let another couple get off. He puffed his fringe out of his face.

“Huh…” He studied the both of them, wracking his brain for where he might have seen them before but coming up empty.

Cedric wasn’t surprised. With his long hair and Hermione’s half-shaved ‘do plus their (mostly) relaxed demeanor and tropical appropriate attire they certainly didn’t look like their old selves.

“Are you tourists?” Stan asked.

“No,” said Hermione.

“What did you say your names were, again?”

“We didn’t,” said Cedric.

Stan waited for a continued answer and frowned when neither offered their name.

“Tight-lipped,” said the shrunken head, cackling. “Might be on da run from da law.”

“I thought shrunken heads were supposed to have their mouths sewn shut,” said Hermione.

“Wait!” Stan gasped. “I remember! You’re Cedric Diggory! You’s a werewolf now!”

Ernie grunted and looked up with shock. Cedric saw them glance nervously at the moon and suspicion filled their minds. Cedric pulled the emergency stop and wrapped his arms around Hermione’s waist so she wouldn’t fall down.

“Where we at?” Cedric asked.

“Nort’ hampton,” said the shrunken head.

“Great,” said Hermione. “I want a refund.”

“A what?”

“A. Refund,” she repeated, holding her hand out. “If you’re not going to treat my boyfriend like a normal wizard, then refund us and we’ll use a different method. What’s another hour and a half?”

Not wanting to argue with her, Stan gave them their refund in the form of two galleons. Hermione stormed off the bus, opened her bag, and summoned her motorcycle. It sprang out and bounced once before falling onto its stand.

Cedric hurried off the bus and clambered onto the bike, just managing to wrap his arms around her before she took off. She knew exactly where she was going.

They practically flew down the road, the cold air stinging their cheeks. Cedric rested his chin on her shoulder trying to focus on getting a cup of tea once they reached Grimmauld Place. Instead, he couldn’t help but think about the look on Stan’s and Ernie’s faces when they realized who he was.

The fear, the suspicion, minds racing with what they’d do if he transformed and attacked them then and there despite it not being a full moon.

Hermione rested her hand on top of his.  _ Stop it. I can hear your thoughts and I’m not even a legilimens. _

“I’m fine,” he said in her ear.

“Lies,” she called back. “You don’t have to be fine with it, Cedric.”

“It’s going to keep happening,” he replied.

“Yes, it will,” she said. “But you shouldn’t resign yourself to it. Not everyone is like that and we’ll change their minds.”

“How?” he asked. “You’re leaving and I’m going to Japan after I graduate.”

Hermione quieted and looked straight ahead, regrets filling her mind.

“Don’t you think about transferring back to Hogwarts,” he said. “You’ll be safer at Castelobruxo.”

“But—”

“I’m a Hufflepuff,” he said and grinned. “I'm sure I'll  _ find _ a way to carry on."

Hermione laughed and pushed the motorcycle faster. They were lucky there wasn’t as much traffic this late since she had to remind herself what side of the road to drive on. She passed through Chalk Farm to get to Islington borough. They reached the wealthy part and slowed, counting down until they reached No. 13.

She parked, switched off the engine, and studied the building. She lifted her eyepatch, put it back, and strode forward confidently between 13 and 11. Cedric followed close behind and they entered a pocket of reality. He lightly rested a hand on Hermione’s shoulder and saw an aura of magic in a color he couldn’t describe on a trichromatic spectrum.

He was so glad he took lessons from Tía Constanza. It was interesting to see the world from Hermione’s eyes. He was so focused on the colors he bumped into her. She stopped in front of a red door with a bronze knocker in the shape of a lion.

“Everyone is probably asleep,” said Cedric. “It’s well after midnight.”

“This has the Fidelius Charm,” said Hermione, the situation clicking. “Maybe they’re secure enough they’d keep the front door unlocked?”

She tried it, but it didn’t budge.

“I can unlock it,” she said.  _ “Accio lock pick.” _

“I think it better we announce our presence than break in and get hexed,” said Cedric.

“Yeah.” She clicked her tongue, put her lock picking kit back in her bag, and lifted her hand to the knocker when someone cleared their throat.

Cedric whirled around with his wand at the ready, casting the  _ Lumos _ charm. If it was an intruder they’d be blinded.

“Ow!” a familiar voice cried.

He lowered the light to see Bill squinting and blinking. He was as ruggedly handsome as ever. When he realized who they were, Cedric was flooded with relief. The eldest Weasley brother had no fear or suspicion around him.

“Hey, Bill,” said Hermione.

“Hey,” Bill replied, unlocking the door with a key and entering. “What brings you here?”

“Hanging out before school starts,” said Cedric, following him into the house, he saw what the house looked like before and the change surprised him.

It was finally habitable. You wouldn't have been able to tell the shape it was in just a month ago. The floors were a lovely mahogany, the wooden panels on the wall were painted red, and the wallpaper was burgundy and beige striped. Gone were the plaques of elf heads, replaced by pictures of friends and family. What once was the dining room had been turned into a recreation room with a pool table, a round card table, and a giant painting of dogs playing poker.

“I see you two changed your hair,” Bill commented. “Looks nice.”

“Thanks,” said Hermione with a cheerful smile. “Late night?”

Bill flushed slightly. He had been giving Fleur lessons in English and while they took the lessons seriously, paying attention to spelling, grammar, sentence structure, and all that jazz, there was a  _ lot _ of flirting. Nothing too serious, they hadn’t even declared themselves a couple yet. Cedric thought they were a nice fit and hadn’t missed the interested glances between the pair just a couple short months ago.

“We probably should have just gone to my parents for the night,” said Hermione.

“Quizás,” said Cedric, setting the backpack down and letting Belle out.

She took off into the next room where there was a loud thud followed by a small, “mew…”

“Aw, poor baby,” Hermione cooed.

“I should catch you up on everything,” said Bill. “Why don’t we get some tea?”

They went downstairs to the kitchen which was rather big and had the copper cookware hanging from the ceiling above a long table. The stove itself had six burners, there were two ovens, and a large basin. It still wasn’t nearly as big as the one in D.R. but it was the right size for all the Weasleys to be staying as well as Sirius and Harry and any guests they might have.

Hermione poured water into the kettle on the stove and went about finding the pot and tea cups while Cedric searched the pantry and cupboards for the tea itself.

He found a standard black tea and some biscuits. Soon they were sitting across from each other, sipping their tea.

“Okay,” said Hermione, nodding at Bill.

“First off,” he said. “Don’t mention Percy around my mum.”

“Why not?” Cedric asked.

“He and Dad got into a huge row,” Bill explained. “About how we never had enough money and how Dad never tried to move up beyond Head of the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts and thought that his tinkering with Muggle things were embarrassing.”

Cedric winced.

“Now he won’t have anything to do with us,” Bill continued sadly. “Thinks he’s too important, especially now that he’s Minister Fudge’s personal assistant.”

“Fudge is an imbecile,” said Hermione. “I wouldn’t be proud to be his assistant because I know I would just end up doing all the work or something stupid."

“Percy loves the work,” said Cedric. “He’s that kind of person because once he takes that position then it’ll look like he’s a natural.”

“Be that as it may,” said Bill. “It’s hurting Mum the most. She tried bringing him his favorite zucchini bread and he slammed the door in her face.”

“What a- a… plonker,” said Hermione.

"Is plonker a real word?" Cedric whispered.

"It is now. Plonker. Noun. Percy Weasley is a plonker."

Bill twitched, automatically wanting to defend his family, but also knowing Hermione was speaking the truth albeit in a blunt manner. He merely sighed and nodded.

“It gets worse,” he said. “Percy said Dad was an idiot to run around with Dumbledore, that Dumbledore was heading for big trouble and Dad was going to go down with him, and that he—Percy I mean—knew his loyalty was with the Ministry. Packed his bags that night and left. Besides Mum, I’m the only other person who knows where he’s living. I think he hopes I'll see reason and take his side."

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Cedric. “What else is going on? Seems like a lot.”

“Well, the Ministry is trying to discredit and set inquiries on anyone who supports Dumbledore. Luckily, if he made them redundant then he’d lose half his staff so Dad’s and other people’s jobs are safe.” Bill drummed his fingers on the table in irritation. “He doesn’t believe Voldemort is back.”

“But there’s, like, three eye-witness accounts!” Hermione shouted.

“They’re claiming that this is solely the work of Fenrir Greyback,” he continued. “Cedric… it’s probably best if you remain with someone who can vouch for you at all times. There was a werewolf attack in Ottery St. Catchpole. No one was hurt except a dog that protected its owner and since werewolves don’t typically hurt animals the dog was okay. When they searched your house, they found it was a shell. Everything inside burned down.”

“I was in Hawaii when the attack happened,” said Cedric. “Were the Hogwarts letters delivered?”

“Not yet.”

Cedric sighed with relief.

“Oh, and Harry has a hearing tomorrow.”

“For what?!”

“He and the next door neighbor were attacked by a dementor,” came a voice from the doorway.

They all looked up and saw Sirius.

“Sorry,” said Hermione. “Were we being too loud?”

“No, I just got home from work,” he said and got himself a cup of tea. “It’s nice to see you both.”

“Wait…” Hermione slowly turned to look at him. “What about a dementor?”

“Harry really should tell you,” said Sirius.

“Yes! He has a hearing tomorrow! Do you have someone representing him?”

“Er…”

Hermione clenched her jaw and Cedric grinned. Hermione Sanchez-Granger, teen lawyer, was on the case.

“Wake him up, right now,” Hermione ordered. “Do you have access to the Ministry after hours?”

Sirius nodded.

“Good, hop to it. ¡Ándale!” She clapped her hands and sent him off. She dug around her bag and brought out a notebook, a file, and summoned her wizard law books.

“I’ll make a pot of coffee,” said Cedric, getting the bag out of his backpack while Sirius ran upstairs to get Harry.

Hermione wrapped up her hair in a scarf to keep it out of the way and to avoid questions about her new ‘do, then got to work.

Harry stumbled down the stairs, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

“Hermione?” he mumbled. “What is this?”

“I am going to get you off,” she said, determined.

“… what?”

“Your hearing,” said Cedric quickly. “Hermione’s going to represent you.”

“Seriously?”

“No, Sirius Black,” said Sirius.

Without looking up, Hermione swatted him with her file folder.

“Get me the records of magic used in front of muggles on or around these dates,” she said. “Along with how they were handled. Harry, give me your statement of what happened when you were attacked by the dementors.”

“Er— right,” said Harry, suddenly alert. “Um, well, you know Lisa from next door?”

“Yes, we took taekwondo together,” said Hermione.

“She asked me out when I was coming home from the store over a week ago,” he said. “I said yes.”

“And where did you go?”

“Laser tag arcade,” he said. “It was a lot of fun. A bit like when you, me, and Cedric went a couple years back. We stayed until closing which was about eleven. Then we walked to the tube. Even though this is a safer area, she said she had a bad feeling and kept a baton in her hand.”

“Yes, she had a bad experience with a mugger,” said Hermione. “Go on.”

“So, we got on the tube which was mysteriously empty for a Friday night except for one other person who looked homeless, but we didn’t notice him until the doors were closed,” he continued. “And then it got really cold… the lights flickered and the tube stopped at another empty stop. These two dementors showed up and got onto the tube just as the doors shut.”

“How did Lisa react?”

“She was crying and waved her baton around." Harry got a small grin. “Cracked one in the head. Didn’t even know that was possible. I cast the patronus charm and sent them off at the next stop. We get home without any other issues.”

“What did Lisa say upon witnessing you use magic?” Hermione asked, writing all this down in shorthand.

“That she knew it had to exist,” he said. “She always believed magic was science we have yet to understand. Asked me questions and I answered as vaguely as I could.”

“What of the homeless man?” Cedric asked.

Hermione paused and looked up. “Yes, what did happen to the homeless man?”

“Er… he disappeared about the same time as the dementors appeared.”

“Look into my eyes,” said Cedric.

“What?”

“Do it,” said Hermione.

Harry tentatively turned to Cedric and stared into his eyes. Cedric entered the memory. Interesting how people picked up faces so easily. Though his main focus was occupied, his peripherals did not miss the man leaving, but not through the door, no… he disappeared. The memory shifted to what Harry was dreaming about when he was abruptly awoken. A black door with a silver handle, something seemed off about it.

“The homeless man was a wizard,” said Cedric, breaking contact, taking a sheet of notebook paper and drawing out the face. “He apparated.”

Bill leaned over his shoulder, Cedric barely brushed his hand and sending the image of what he saw, just how Tía Constanza trained him.

“That’s Mundungus Fletcher!” Bill gasped, wide awake now. “Oh, Sirius is going to be furious.”

“Who’s Mundungus Fletcher?” Hermione asked.

“He’s part of the Order of the Phoenix,” said Bill. “It’s the rebellion against Voldemort.”

“Mundungus Fletcher is a mole,” said Cedric, looking at Hermione. “I bet Dumbledore had him tagging Harry to keep him safe.”

“Well, he did a  _ brilliant _ job,” said Harry sarcastically.

“How do you know this?” Bill asked.

“What happened after you returned home?” Hermione asked, getting them back on track.

“Aurors came,” said Harry. “Williamson and Proudfoot. Lisa claimed she would keep it secret, but a man named Portly obliviated her. She doesn’t even know who I am anymore.”

Hermione’s eye twitched as she stabbed a hole in her paper with her pen.

“Did they get your statement?” she asked.

“Er—no,” he said. “They left after that. I’ve been cooped up ever since.”

“Have you cast any spells on your wand since then?” Hermione asked.

“No,” he said.

“So, we can look at what spell was last cast which, if what you say is accurate, is the patronus charm?”

“Yes,” said Harry truthfully.

“Brilliant,” said Hermione, slurping down some more coffee. “I’m going to need your wand.”

“N-now?”

“Well, I certainly don’t need it after the trial.”

Sirius returned with an envelope containing copies of the records. Hermione took them with a muttered “thank you” and scanned both documents, then went through the reports. The men in the room watched her with great interest as to what exactly she was doing.

Cedric rested his chin in his hand and smiled. She was so brilliant. He loved watching her mind work.

“What are the charges?” she asked Sirius.

“Underaged magic in front of a muggle.”

Hermione smirked and closed the documents.

“What do you have?” Sirius asked.

“A case,” she said and drained her coffee cup. “Harry, go back to bed and don’t worry your pretty little head about anything else. Your big sister is on the case.”

“Alright,” said Harry. A weight lifted off his mind and he wasn’t as scared about tomorrow.

“I’m going to bed myself,” said Bill, yawning broadly and going upstairs.

“You’re going to represent Harry tomorrow?” Sirius asked Hermione.

“Of course,” she said. “Since he’s underaged it’s probably just going to be the school board and an executive from the Department of Law Enforcement. It’d be easier for me to do the talking. The last time someone got on his case about underaged magic in front of muggles I slammed a bat on an Auror’s hand and then chewed them out. I acquitted Buckbeak, I proved your innocence, I took down Peter Pettigrew. I got this.”

“No argument there,” said Sirius, also relieved that his godson was going to have someone with him.

Hermione put on her headphones and got to serious work building her case file. She would have preferred more time, but she would work with what she had.

“How are you doing, Cedric?” Sirius asked.

“Brilliant,” he said.

“You’ve recovered well.”

“Yeah, I’ve had a lot of help with that.” Cedric ran his thumb over his metal knuckles. “I’m just lucky my best friend was ready to take me in.” He heard Sirius’s thoughts loud and clear. “I’ve accepted that I’m not going to get Amos back in my life and I learned from Manny—Hermione’s dad—that I don’t have to forgive him.”

“You remind me a lot of myself,” said Sirius with slight bitterness. “Except…”

“It’s the arm, isn’t it?” said Cedric, not wanting to push Sirius into a spiral. The man was prone to those after his years in Azkaban.

Sirius chuckled. “With how you’re turning out you could pretty much be mine and Remus’s love child—” He put a hand over his mouth.

Cedric raised an eyebrow. Oh! Okay, he needed to play this right so that Sirius wouldn’t freak. Evidently, he’d never come out to anyone except James, Lily, and, more recently, Professor Lupin who requited the feelings.

“Can I call you Dadfoot, then?” he said cheekily.

Sirius laughed, stopping when Hermione gave them an irritated look. She turned up her music and took another sip of coffee that Cedric poured.

“Really though,” said Sirius, “I know what it’s like to… have what happened to you happen. Maybe in a different way…”

“I appreciate it,” said Cedric, knowing what he was getting at. “I’ll be fine. And nobody got their school letters yet, right?”

“Not yet,” Sirius confirmed. “Although, and you didn’t hear it from me, you’re up for Head Boy.”

Cedric grinned. “That’s a nice thought.”

They talked for a little bit until Sirius decided to go to bed since he wanted to get up and go with Harry to the hearing.

“You’ll be bunking with Bill,” he said. “And Hermione will room with Ginny.”

“I’ll stay up with Hermione,” he said. “She’s going to be at this all night and someone has to keep the coffee going.”

“Alright,” said Sirius. “Oh, and be mindful of Kreacher, he’s my house-elf. Can’t free him, he knows too much.”

Cedric hummed and snapped his attention to Hermione. Her thought burst was bone rattling. It was a brilliant idea but her mind was moving too fast for him to follow.

He believed she would get this taken care of.


	10. The Wizengamot Gets Their Asses Handed to Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the sporadic updates, we just moved and I've been trying to get everything under control.

Hermione worked all through the night until around six when Mr. Weasley, Charlie, and Bill came down for breakfast. She decided to get ready for the trial. She put on her second Sunday outfit which was a white skirt and blazer with a blue top. England was in a heat wave and a drought so she was glad to have kept some of her lighter attire.

While she did her makeup to hide the bags under her eyes, Cedric helped style her hair so the shaved part was covered.

“Good morning, Hermione,” said Mr. Weasley. “Cedric. I forgot you two were coming in last night.”

“Yeah, we came in around midnight,” said Cedric. “Bill told us about Harry’s trial.”

Mrs. Weasley looked up from the pan of eggs she was scrambling.

“Did you get in that late, Bill?”

“Yeah, Mum,” said Bill.

“I don’t know if I like these late hours you’ve been staying out.”

Hermione looked up from her papers and raised an eyebrow. Bill was, what, twenty-eight? He didn’t need to be smothered.

“It’s a good thing he was,” she said. “Or I never would have found out about Harry’s hearing.”

Harry entered the kitchen.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Hermione asked.

Harry looked down at his grey t-shirt and jeans.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Everything,” she said and put everything away in her accordion file folder. She gave it to Cedric. “Guard this with your life.”

“Yes, my love,” he said and gave her the potion he used to straighten her hair.

She grabbed Harry by the wrist and dragged him upstairs.

“Where’s your room?” she asked, hurrying up the staircase.

“Second floor,” he said.

Hermione practically kicked the door in, scaring Ron.

“Bloody hell!” he shouted, sitting upright and holding his blanket to his chest.

The room was a mess with clothes and food wrappers littering the floor and owl droppings on the dresser where Hedwig and Pigwidgeon perched. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the funky smell and flung open the closet door.

“Please tell me you have  _ something _ decent,” she said.

“Er, yeah,” said Harry. “Roger and Beatrice sent me a suit for my birthday. They want to take us to see Phantom of the Opera before we go back to school.”

Hermione found the champagne colored suit and held it out.

“Perfect,” she said. “Put on the pants, the shirt, and the jacket. We don’t need the tie. When you’re done, I’m putting this in your hair. Hop to it!”

Once Harry was dressed properly and his hair was combed into organized chaos, it was nearly time to leave. Mr. Weasley would be taking them to the visitor’s entrance since Sirius got summoned for an emergency Wizengamot meeting, which he had a seat on.

Hermione and Harry had to help Mr. Weasley with the muggle money to buy their underground fare. The way he acted was exactly how Harry and Hermione thought he would causing them both to smile, even under the circumstances.

“I’ve never been through the visitor’s entrance,” said Mr. Weasley.

The three of them crammed into a phone booth. Mr. Weasley punched in a few numbers onto the dial.

_ “Ministry of Magic, what is your purpose today?” _ the disembodied voice of a woman asked.

“We’re here for a trial,” said Mr. Weasley.

_ “One moment please.” _

The cup where spare change usually lands spat out three badges. Hermione clipped hers to her blouse and tried to ignore the claustrophobia setting in.

Like an elevator, they slowly sank into the ground, to the Ministry of Magic.

Hermione had never seen any place like it.

The corridor they walked along had dozens of fireplaces made of black stone on either side where witches and wizards were strolling in and out in spurts of green fire. When they reached the atrium, it was almost like its own city with office buildings stretching high as the eye could see.

In the center of the atrium was a gold fountain with a valiant looking wizard, a winsome witch, a centaur, and a house-elf. Hermione immediately didn’t like that. It obviously played that wizards and witches were the most superior judging by the way the magical beings were looking at the couple in awe.

A small plaque read:  _ All fountain proceeds go to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magic Maladies _ .

Well, at least it all went to a good cause.

“Come,” said Mr. Weasley. “I’ll show you my office.”

He led them to a series of elevators. Hermione knew these wouldn’t be normal elevators, so she steadied her stance and centered her core. When the elevator shot up and out, Harry fell and grabbed hold onto one of the straps on the ceiling. Paper airplanes hung suspended coming and leaving each time the doors opened.

“We used to use owls,” said Mr. Weasley. “The mess was unbelievable.”

They exited out into the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department floor. Hermione opened up her file while Harry poked around Mr. Weasley’s desk.

“Arthur.”

Hermione and Harry looked to see a tall, black man with a gold earring pop his head into the office to whisper something to Mr. Weasley.

“That’s Kingsley Shacklebolt,” Harry whispered. “Part of the Order.”

“Oh, dear,” said Mr. Weasley to them. “The trial has been changed.”

“To when?”

“Now.”

“Oh, no they didn’t,” said Hermione, following Mr. Weasley and Kingsley. “There’s got to be some rule about that. I can’t even reschedule an appointment for the dentist without a week’s notice and she’s my mother!”

Hermione raged the entire time to their trial, not realizing where they were heading until they had stepped out of the lift.

“Wait…” she said, taking in the onyx black tile. “This isn’t the Board of Education office, is it?”

She found Harry staring down a black-tiled hallway to a single door.

"Not sure why they're bringing you down here," said Mr. Weasley. "Oh well, I'm sure it's just a formality. Besides, you do have Hermione with you, Harry.”

"What about you, Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked, looking alarmed.

"Oh, I'm not allowed in. Everything will be fine, I'm sure."

Hermione straightened her spine and entered the room ready to fix whoever was in there with a level gaze that said don't-argue-with-me-because-you-will-lose.

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered, taking in the sight.

Hermione thought that at  _ most _ the entire school board would be there. Not the ENTIRE FREAKING WIZENGAMOT! It was simply unfair. What the hell was she doing? A hippogriff was one thing, but this was her friend! Stomping her foot once to stop her leg from shaking, she strode into the room and stood beside the chair the defendant typically sat in. Harry hesitantly sat down and looked as if he expected the chair to swallow him whole or spin around and dump him into a room full of nightmares. Well… too late for that last one.

This place was definitely neater than the memory she saw. Perhaps because there weren’t as many trials at this time. With everything happening, that was sure to change.

Hermione stared at all of the politicians in their purple robes and oddly shaped hats. She nearly choked when she saw Lucius Malfoy sitting in his seat. Who was he blowing to get him back in the Wizengamot? Narcissa Black was in the seat beside him, perhaps the Lestrange seat, and pointedly looked anywhere but to her right, despite the fact her ex-husband was speaking to her. Fudge started a little when he saw Hermione, but quickly composed himself. Sitting below him was Percy Weasley and Hermione thought of a number of accurate words to describe how she felt about someone who would abandon their family for a job.

"The Defense requests permission to speak," said Hermione loudly.

The Wizengamot quieted.

"Permission granted," said Fudge.

"In past cases, trials of underage magic are held in a much smaller setting," she said. "Why, pray tell, is the entire Wizengamot gathered for an infraction?"

"Infraction?" one man scoffed. "Performing  _ underage _ magic in front of a  _ muggle _ is  _ more _ than a simple  _ infraction _ ."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ensign Italics and straightened her spine.

"Well… we have a bit of a conundrum here," she said.

"And what is that?" a broad woman with a monocle asked. The name plate said Madam Bones. She seemed to be a reasonable woman so Hermione decided mainly to address her for the trial.

"Well, it is obvious that this trial setting is meant for more than juvenile court," she said. "Which must mean that you recognize Harry as an of-age wizard.”

"What?" squawked Harry.

"What?" the Wizengamot chorused.

Wow… people really didn’t pay attention to contracts here.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Wizengamot, it is well-known by everyone that Harry—Mr. Potter, was entered into the Triwizard Tournament against his will and forced to compete," she said. "However, and I have researched this, a contract, magical or otherwise, is not legally binding if you are underage. Mr. Potter could have been  _ prevented _ from competing, but certain people decided to make him in order to lure out the culprit.

“Due to this fact, you have recognized Harry Potter as an of-age wizard, legally allowed to perform magic outside of school. Trace or no Trace. Therefore, he has the infraction of using magic to  _ protect _ himself and a muggle which warrants a fine of no more than up to 200 galleons, which I’m sure his guardian would be more than happy to pay. In monthly installments of course."

She looked at Sirius in his Wizengamot seat and nodded. He broke into a wide grin and color returned to his pale cheeks.

Protests erupted throughout the Wizengamot and Hermione waited patiently for the arguments to subside. She hoped they couldn't see how much her knees and wrists were trembling. It was risky to present this argument but she had to give it her all. Sirius had to stay where he was if he wanted his vote to count.

It took a while for Fudge to get everyone to settle enough.

"There is still undeniable proof that he performed magic in front of a muggle," said one of the Wizengamot members, jumping to his feet.

Hermione recognized him immediately and her anger took over.

“What’s your name?” she asked coldly.

“Gerald Portly,” he said. “Department of Accidental Magics and Catastrophes.”

“How many No-Majs did you have to obliviate?” she asked.

“No-Maj?”

“No magic, non-wizard, No Magia,” she defined. “Please, answer the question.”

“One.”

“How many No-Majs did you have to Obliviate at the Quidditch World Cup? How many times had you obliviated that poor man and his family? How many No-Majs do you obliviate every single day to keep this place under-wraps? May I remind you that wizards are not the most discreet bunch? Do you place every single witch or wizard up on here? Now, I can understand if it were for biting teacups or door knobs, but self-defense from a dementor?”

“Obliviation isn’t easy business, missy,” said Portly.

“Oh, no, I understand,” she said. “I was nearly put into a coma because  _ somebody _ decided to obliviate me when I was just four-years-old, simply because a wizard saved me from a car wreck in the Thames. Yes… I mean  _ you _ . You obliviated me and took me away from my family who, by the way, was magical. From a legal standpoint, you abducted me."

Portly paled and shrunk under the shock and glares of the people surrounding him.

"There is still the matter of what a dementor was doing in London," interrupted Fudge, bringing her attention back to a trial. "You can't expect us to believe that a dementor would leave Azkaban."

"So, you're telling me that Harry Potter just decided to go outside and cast a corporeal patronus just because he felt like it?" Hermione countered.

"You can cast a corporeal patronus?" Madam Bones asked, intrigued.

"Yes," said Harry after Hermione nodded. "I could since my third year."

"And that was against a swarm of dementors who were after Sirius Black," Hermione added. "Who, might I remind you, was a  _ victim _ of mistrial and error."

“It’s true,” said Sirius. “I was there, I saw it!”

“If you want your vote to count, you cannot be a witness in this trial, Mr. Black,” said Madam Bones neutrally.

Sirius pursed his lips so thin they nearly disappeared from the pressure.

Hermione held up Harry’s wand high enough for everyone to see but sideways to that it appeared non-threatening.

“Mr. Potter,” she said. “Can you identify this object?”

“Yes, that’s my wand,” said Harry.

“So we agree that this wand belongs to you,” she said.

“Yes…”

“Permission to approach the bench?”

“Permission granted,” said Madam Bones.

Hermione approached and held the wand out in front of her as non-threateningly as possible.

“Though the spell was cast over a week ago and no subsequent spells were cast, the last spell should be traced,” she said. “Could we test that?”

The corner of Madam Bones’s mouth quirked into a smile. She drew her own wand and muttered an incantation. A white line traced the wand movement in the air.

“I can confirm that this is the wand movement for the Patronus Charm,” said Madam Bones, giving the wand back to Hermione, which she put away in her file.

“Now,” said Hermione. “What—”

_ "Hem hem!" _

A toad-like woman wearing a pink, ruffle-neck blouse got to her feet. Hermione immediately did not like her and had a bad feeling about that sweet smile on her face. She smiled condescendingly at the teenagers.

"I do wonder why we are all here listening to what a  _ child _ has to say," she said. "Do you have the training or experience to be handling a trial like this, dearie?"

"I have a General Certificate of Secondary Education and took classes in Intro into Criminal Law as well as Court and Justice Systems," Hermione responded. "I have an Order of Merlin,  _ First _ Class, an Award of Service to the School, Hogwarts Student of the Decade award, and a medal for Outstanding Achievement in Academics. Do any of you have college degrees? How about majors in politics or law? Does Hogwarts have some sort of political science program I am unaware of? As far as I'm concerned, the only thing I lack is the experience and this is just my second trial."

Hermione knew in that moment she screwed up. She was in no position to be snarky and she just implied that a fifteen-year-old was equally qualified to run a trial. Shit, shit, shit. She turned around to Harry and mouthed the sentiment. His eyes widened, and if he was scared before, he was beyond terrified now.

"I would like to request that my previous statement be struck off the record," she said, facing the Wizengamot. "It was out of line and I do sincerely apologize."

“Miss Granger —”

"Consider it forgotten," said Madam Bones, wishing to speed things along. "However, I'm afraid we’re simply going in circles, and unless there’s a way to prove any of what Harry Potter is claiming is true in the eyes of the law, this is his third offense of underaged use of magic, contract or no contract. Patronus or no patronus.”

“Can you list these offenses?”

“The first was back in 1992,” said Minister Fudge. “Cast inside his home.”

“Did anybody go and check to see if his wand was used for spells?” Hermione asked.

“No, Miss Granger, the first offense is always a warning.”

“I see,” said Hermione. “Regardless, he did not cast magic in 1992. Magic was merely  _ detected _ . The magic itself was performed by a house-elf who was trying to warn Mr. Potter of dangers at school against the orders of his former owners the Malfoy family. I assume the elf in question, Dobby, would be more than happy to testify that this is true as he is currently working at Hogwarts.”

“We will look into it,” said Madam Bones.

“The second offense happened a year later in 1993,” said Minister Fudge, who was now turning into an unpleasant shade of red. “Mr. Potter blew up his aunt!”

“It was accidental magic caused by extreme stress as he was provoked by his uncle’s family member, Marjory Dursley, who was verbally abusing Harry and had, in fact, insulted Lily and James Potter, calling them worthless drunks and even going as far as calling his mum, and I quote, ‘a bitch.’”

This caused another uproar and Hermione took the time to drink some water and get collected again.

“SILENCE!” Minister Fudge bellowed. “QUIET IN THE WIZENGAMOT!”

“If my memory serves me correctly,” said Hermione, getting her confidence back as Fudge was losing his. “I was there when Harry’s charges of underaged magic  _ on _ a No-Maj were expunged due to fear that, then deemed mass-murderer, Sirius Black was after him. That makes this his first…”

Hermione paused. The last time… they expunged his record to prevent him from getting expelled to protect him… Harry was witness to the rise of Voldemort and the press was vehemently against him _ and _ Cedric. They were  _ trying _ to get him expelled!

“May I please ask a question of you?” Hermione asked evenly.

“You have permission to speak,” said Madam Bones.

“Please, inform me,  _ why _ the entire Wizengamot is gathered for this,” she said. “Underaged magic should involve the School Board and Head for the Department meant to handle magic in front of No-Majs. Casting magic in front of a No-Maj: the proper Department for the handling that misconduct. This? The  _ entire _ Wizengamot, seems like overkill. In fact, can you bring up every single case for me where the entire Wizengamot gathered for underaged magic in front of a No-Maj. Also, can you refine it to magic that did not directly affect the No-Maj?”

_ “Hem-hem!” _

Hermione turned her head to the frog lady again and raised an eyebrow.

“Again,” she said. “I ask why we are listening to—”

“Objection!”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Wizengamot member did not properly request permission to speak,” said Hermione. “Madam Bones, Minister Fudge, may I please have records of trials such as this?”

Madam Bones paused and looked at Minister Fudge, who was visibly sweating. Percy Weasley had stopped his frantic writing and stared at Hermione in amazement.

“Miss Granger,” said Madam Bones. “I think you’ve made your point very well. Due to the fact that you can’t prove a Dementor was there when he cast a Patronus Charm, and  _ we _ can’t prove that a Dementor _ didn’t _ leave Azkaban; along with your claim that Harry Potter is, in fact, an of-age wizard in the eyes of the law, and that it was one No-Maj who was obliviated by someone who will most definitely be receiving an Inquiry. I think now, we can only void this trial and release Mr. Potter with a fine of 200 galleons, which does not have to be paid all at once.”

“Will I still get to go to school ma’am?” Harry asked.

“Well… if you deny your rights as an of-age wizard until you are seventeen, then I see no problem allowing you to return to school.”

“Yes, ma’am! I do!” said Harry quickly. “I really want to return to school!”

“Very well, I motion court case is dismissed, add it as a warning to Mr. Potter’s record, and for Merlin’s sake someone get me a large coffee cup filled with as many shots of espresso as legally possible because I will be here late managing the paperwork for this. Minister Fudge, as prosecutor, do you have any reason why this conclusion should not be so?”

“N-no, Madam Bones,” said Fudge, as green as his favorite bowler hat.

“Very well, shall we put it to a vote?” said Madam Bones. “Those who agree with dismissing the case and clearing Mr. Potter of all charges?”

The majority of hands in the Wizengamot raised. Sirius raised his so high his robe sleeve slid all the way up his arm. To Hermione’s surprise, Narcissa Black raised her hand as well, staring straight ahead while her ex-husband went red in the face.

“All oppose?”

Only a small handful raised their hands including Lucius Malfoy, Minister Fudge, and the Frog Lady.

“The ayes have it,” said Madam Bones, tapping her gavel. “This case is dismissed.”

“AHHH-HA!” Sirius cheered.

Hermione smiled smugly and organized her papers, which were instantly scattered to the ground when Harry leapt to his feet and hugged her so tightly she was pretty sure her spine cracked.

“Is this how every trial is going to end?” she squeaked.

“Er—sorry.”

“Miss Granger,” said Madam Bones on her way out. “May I speak to you?”

“Of course, doña,” said Hermione, sweeping up her papers and following the woman to the lifts.

Dizzy from adrenaline, Hermione held onto a handle for dear life while Madam Bones stood as if she were in a normal elevator. They exited out onto a floor filled with cubicles. The people working seemed harried and were dealing with stacks of files and paperwork.

Madam Bones led her around the side to a desk with a receptionist.

“Rupert, please make sure we aren’t disturbed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Rupert the Receptionist.

Madam Bones opened the door to her office and waved Hermione in. It was neater than the desks outside, but still cluttered with paperwork, broken quills, and ink bottles of different colors. There were also pictures on the walls, some plants, and bookcases filled with law books and files.

“Please, sit.”

Hermione obediently sat in one of the leather chairs. Honestly, she was more than a little anxious especially with how she spoke.

“Would you like some tea?” Madam Bones asked, sitting across from her in her own, high-backed chair.

“Oh, uh… yes, please.”

“Is Blend No. 49 all right?”

“I love Blend No. 49.”

Madam Bones smiled and tapped her intercom, leaning over to the horn on her desk.

“Rupert, I need tea for two please. Blend No. 49 if you will.”

“Coming right away, Madam Bones.”

Once they had their tea, Hermione’s anxiety got the better of her.

“Why did you ask me here, doña?” she asked.

“I just wanted to speak to you,” she said. “That was a hell of a trial. Half of my Department here couldn’t speak as eloquently nor fight as hard as you did during a trial. And that was only your second one?”

“When I was in No-Maj school I did debate and academic decathlon and I also defended Hagrid’s hippogriff the other year.”

Madam Bones hummed and nodded. “I also heard that you researched the evidence used in Sirius Black’s trial last year.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That was … quite a remark you made as well,” said the older witch, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, er—well—” Hermione stammered. “I just—I tend to let my emotions get the better of me. I am working on it, but I was just…”

“Angry.”

“Sí, doña.”

“Understandable. I was like that when I started out,” she chuckled and tapped her monocle, which was mirroring Hermione’s eyepatch. “I see a bit of myself in you, I suppose.”

“I know why they did that to Harry,” she blurted.

Madam Bones raised her eyebrow. “Oh?”

“During the trial, I remembered reading all these disparaging articles against Dumbledore and people calling Harry crazy and Cedric… other things. See, I think Minister Fudge is  _ trying _ to get Harry expelled so he can’t express his views about Voldemort being back to his peers who are more likely to listen to him than The Man.”

The witch nodded slowly. “Yes, I suspected that as well. I’ll let you in on something that you can tell the Order.” Her voice dropped barely above a whisper. “Fudge is looking for a way to place a spy inside Hogwarts.”

“I’ll tell them.”

 Madam Bones set her teacup down and studied Hermione. “Have you thought about what you wanted to do with your future?”

Hermione took a sip of her tea and nodded. “Yes ma’am, my main goal is to help S.A.M.B. gain enough popularity that it will be included into bills and laws for the rights of Magical Beings. Career-wise … well, I’ve always had an interest in becoming a lawyer. The only problem is that I would probably have to prove the innocence of those who are most definitely guilty and that doesn’t sit well with me. Ideally, I'd do  _ pro bono _ ."

“I see. Well, your fifth-year of school is when you decide what career path you will be taking once you graduate, that way you know what classes to focus on,” said Madam Bones, letting her monocle drop to her chest. “I think you’d have a promising future in the Department of Magical Law.”

“Really? But I—”

“Miss Granger, I have never seen anyone do what you did today. You could have easily seen the room and left.”

“I couldn’t do that to Harry!” said Hermione. “True, I assumed it would just be a small committee but when I saw the entire Wizengamot gathered … I was determined to try. It isn’t like anybody else was defending him.”

“Amazing loyalty. Well, should you ever decide on a career, I think you would do very well in this Department. I’d even say one day you might replace me.”

Hermione felt her ears warm up. “Madam Sanchez-Granger, Head of Law Enforcement  _ does _ have a nice ring to it.”

Madam Bones finally cracked a grin. “Ambitious, too. I knew I liked you, Miss Granger. Just… try and stay out of trouble.”

“I can  _ try _ , but I don’t know how much good it’ll do.”

“Wise words.” Madam Bones got to her feet, so Hermione did too and they shook hands.

“I hope you have a pleasant school-year, Miss Granger.”

“Thank you, Madam Bones.”

Madam Bones, pressed down on her intercom, “Rupert, please escort Miss Granger to the Ministry plaza, and while you’re out, please pick-up the court transcripts from Percy Weasley.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Hermione followed Rupert out to the plaza where Harry and Sirius were waiting by the fountain. Sirius scooped her up into a massive, bone-crushing hug.

“I guess this is my life now,” she wheezed.

“Sorry,” said Sirius, releasing her. “I’m just so proud of you for defending Harry like that! We’re having a party in your honor tonight, plus Harry getting off. Think you two can make it home okay?”

“Yeah, we’ll take the tube home,” said Hermione. “Besides, we’ll have a tail and I don’t think they’ll let us out of their sight. See you tonight.”

“Get home safe,” said Sirius. He paused and pulled Harry in. “Last hug.”

Harry didn’t seem to mind.

The teens arrived home an hour later. Hermione sighed in relief as the house appeared for them. The humidity had made their hair curl and frizz.

“Ay carajo, it’s hot,” she moaned.

“We’ve had a drought all summer,” said Harry, opening the front door.

“Cedric,” Hermione called. “Are you home? I need someone to conjure me a fainting couch.”

Everyone was crowded in the recreation room to the right. Cedric drew his wand and transfigured an armchair into a fancy jacquard chaise.

“Show off,” said Hermione, collapsing on it and draping her arm over her eyes.

“Only the best for you,” he replied.

“How did the trial go?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“They put us in front of the entire Wizengamot, Harry spoke very little, I spoke a lot, aaand Harry got off with a fine,” Hermione summed.

“You also insulted the entire Wizengamot,” Harry added. “Can’t forget that.”

“Of course not! How could I _ possibly _ forget that?” Hermione sighed. “Exactly why I need the fainting couch.”

“Y-You insulted the entire Wizengamot?” Mrs. Weasley whispered. “How?”

“I basically implied that they weren’t qualified to be in political positions due to their lack of education,” she groaned. “I feel sick just thinking about it, we could have been held in contempt!”

“But we weren’t,” said Harry.

Ron howled with laughter. “We knew you wouldn’t let us down, ‘Mione!”

Fred, George, and Ginny began dancing around and singing "Harry-freakin'-Potter" at the top of their lungs.

“Oh, we’re so relieved for you, Harry!” said Mrs. Weasley.

“Couldn’t have done it without Hermione,” said Harry. “I think the only other person who would’ve managed it would be Dumbledore.”

Hermione hummed and kicked off her heels. After the adrenaline rush, she was completely drained and felt shaky from the whole ordeal like how Harry was that morning. Now, he was vibrant and happy, so that made it worth it. She just couldn’t help but dwell on how she almost effed-up and got them both in a heap of trouble.

Somebody knelt down beside her.

“I am not accepting hugs at this time,” she said, holding up a hand. “I am completely maxed out. No touchy.”

“He's Harry-freakin'-Potter! I wouldn't wince at all! He's invincible from all harm! LIKE BETTY CROCKER!"

“OH, ENOUGH ALREADY!” Mrs. Weasley screeched at her children. Hermione winced. “Can’t get any peace around here! I’ve got a cake to bake and dinner to prepare.”

The Weasley matriarch left, muttering to herself.

“I think she could use a holiday herself,” said the person right beside her.

Hermione looked out from under her arm at Cedric. He rested his chin on his arm and smiled at her.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

Hermione smiled. “I do my best. I haven’t been in England a day and I’ve already won a trial against the Wizengamot.”

“Castelobruxo better watch out,” said Cedric.

“Damn straight,” she said and rested her hands on her stomach.

“You should get comfortable and take a rest,” said Cedric.

“Did you sleep?”

“Yeah, a bit after you left. Least until the twins got up and started making mischief. Mrs. Weasley has quite a set of lungs.”

Hermione chuckled. “I think a nap would be good.”

She got up and went upstairs, finding Ginny’s room on the first floor.

“Oh, God.”

Ginny looked up from her magazine and winced. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

Like the rest of the house, it was modernized and held no trace of the decaying interior left from before. It almost seemed as if Harry was expecting the Weasleys to stay here, as Ginny’s room was designed for a girl.

And not a girl like Ginny.

The room was pink and white with pale wood furniture. It was… frilly. It didn’t suit Ginny at all. It may have suited a couple of Hermione’s cousins, but it was  _ not _ for these girls living in it.

“You’re right,” said Hermione, nodding in agreement. “It’s worse. What do you say we change it?”

“Mum says we can’t use our wands,” said the redhead. Even with those words, she jumped onto her knees and leaned forward eagerly.

Hermione popped her lips and rubbed her hands together. “Well, then. What is your favorite color?”

“Green!” said Ginny immediately. Her eyes widened and she looked down as a blush spread over her cheeks. “Not Slytherin green! God, no! More… more like…”

“Green like a fresh pickled toad, coming right up,” said Hermione with a wink. She shook out her hands then pressed them against the wall.  _ “Coloraverde.” _

Tea green took over the pink, spreading against the walls like ink on paper. Hermione removed her hands and frowned when the color stopped spreading.

“Oh, well,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Pink goes good with green.”

Ginny giggled and held up the white duvet. “Can you change this to black?”

“With pleasure.” Hermione took the duvet in both hands and snapped it. When it lowered, splotchy black marks covered it. “Well… I don’t have the spell  _ completely _ down yet.”

“It’s brilliant, I love it!” said Ginny, jumping onto it. “It looks much better. Now—” she dropped down and propped her head up with her hands, “—tell me  _ all _ about your trip.”

“Can’t I have a nap first?” Hermione asked, digging a red romper out of her bag. She changed in the closet and fixed her hair so that the shaved designs were showing.

“Whoa…” Ginny breathed when she exited. “That design looks sick!”

Hermione grinned and fluffed her hair. “Doesn’t it?”

She sighed and flopped onto her back. At least the bed was comfy. Feeling eyes on her, she opened her good one and looked at Ginny who was looking at her expectantly.

“Oh, fine. My trip was great. We took a flying boat to Hawaii.”

The youngest Weasley seemed starved for something to do other than hang around this house on her own.

“So, what is with all of the secrecy around here?” Hermione asked. “Why is the house under the Fidelius Charm?”

"Well… this house is the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. They were the resistance against You-Know-Who during the last war. With all that’s going on, it’s started up again. I only know who's in it but I don't know what goes on in those meetings. Top secret stuff that isn't for children's ears." Ginny crossed her arms and scowled. "I mean… it's not like I killed a basilisk and destroyed Tom Riddle's diary. I think I should be able to join and hear what's going on."

"Ignorance is bliss," said Hermione, "but I think it's better to be prepared. Frankly, if I were running a secret organization, I would set up tiers of clearance and spread out the information so no one person knows everything except the leader and the leader would have to be willing to die keeping the secrets."

"That'd be a good idea," said Ginny. "You know, Snape's in the Order."

"I bet they're going to make him a mole again," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "Like… a double—no—triple agent!"

"Think you and Cedric are going to join?"

"I… I don't know," she admitted, thinking it might be good to have overseas support and research. "Maybe. I'm allergic to fascists, murderers, and bigots. Cedric? He's been through a lot, I think when it comes to the Big Battle he'll be here, but he just wants to live his life."

"I guess I can understand that."

"Everyone, come set the table for dinner," Mrs. Weasley called after a while.

Two cracks resounded through the house, followed by Mrs. Weasley shrieking in surprise and frustration. Apparently, the Mischievous Duo were taking advantage of their of-age-ness by using magic for everything and creating big messes.

“Oh, Ginny,” said Hermione. “I’m designing a gift for Cedric. It’s two-way journals so we can write each other at anytime without having to send letters. I just wanted you to know so you don’t freak when you see a journal that writes back.”

“Oh, thanks for telling me,” said Ginny.

“It’ll make it easier so we can communicate when we’re apart,” Hermione explained.

“That’s so sweet.”

“What is?” Ron asked.

Hermione pursed her lips and turned her head. She was still not his friend.

“Fine,” Ron muttered. “Be that way.”

“I will.”

The kitchen became crowded with visitors from the Order over for dinner, including Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mundungus Fletcher, and Tonks. Cedric was chatting with their one-time defense Professor.

“Wotcher,” said Tonks.

“Howzit?” Hermione replied, taking her seat beside Cedric.

“I was just admiring your boyfriend’s new ‘do,” said Tonks, shaking her head so her hair became long and luxurious.

“It is nice, isn’t it?” said Hermione. “My cousin Renata did our hair last week.”

“Blimey, Hermione!” George gasped. “You shaved your head.”

“Just part of it,” said Hermione, touching it lightly. “Isn’t it very?”

“Oh, that’s even better,” said Tonks, keeping Cedric’s hair type but shortening half of it. She couldn’t quite seem to get the designs though.

“Everyone tuck in,” said Mrs. Weasley, setting dinner on the table. “Plenty to go around.”

Hermione waited until everyone else had taken before getting her own food.

Hermione tuned into the conversation between Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Remus about goblins.

“They’re not saying much,” said Bill. “I’m not sure if they believe You-Know-Who is back or not. If anything they’ll probably want to stay neutral. Keep out of it.”

“If I were part of a different nation, I’d want to stay out of it,” said Hermione. “ _ Especially _ with colonizers.” She paused and looked at the massively British table. “Er… no offense.”

“None taken,” said Cedric.

“Even if they did decide to fight, certainly they’d never go over to You-Know-Who,” said Mr. Weasley, shaking his head. “They’ve suffered losses, too. Like that goblin family he murdered back near Nottingham.”

“I think it depends on what they’re offered,” said Remus. “And not gold; if they’re offered freedoms we’ve been denying for centuries… Bill, what do you think?”

“I think it’s my time to shine,” said Hermione, snapping her fingers and conjuring a piece of paper and found a pen in her pocket.

“Okay,” said Hermione. “What sort of grievances do we have? I can make up pamphlets for Bill to bring to work. Create a one-year plan, a five-year plan, and a ten-year plan because, of course, we can’t change the laws overnight. Bureaucracies, amirite?”

“Perhaps she would have better luck speaking to Ragnok,” said Mr. Weasley.

“I can try and see if he’d be willing to have a meeting with her,” said Bill, “Considering what she’s done for werewolves and her speaking up about elfish welfare, they might be a bit more keen to hear us out. Though, I think he’s pretty anti-wizard at the moment considering what happened with Bagman. Once Crouch Jr. was Kissed, the payments stopped coming. Still owes them hundreds.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve got beef with Bagman, too,” said Hermione, lifting up her eyepatch. “He’d better learn to sleep with both eyes open.”

“You’re terrifying and I adore you,” Cedric breathed.

“Just be careful about what promises you make,” said Remus. “Goblins are—”

His words were interrupted by a cacophony of laughter. Apparently, the seedy wizard named Mundungus Fletcher, was regaling the boys with tales of his … work.

Hermione tapped Cedric on the shoulder and projected her question about what his deal was and why someone like that was in the Order.

_ “Apparently, he’s very popular in the black market,” _ he whispered to her in Spanish.  _ “Mrs. Weasley doesn’t like him, but Sirius thinks he’s useful. I can see he’s loyal to Dumbledore for digging him out of some tight spots, so there’s that, but I also think he would sell us out for a corn chip.” _

Hermione smiled slightly.

_ Ha ha _ she thought.

“What’re you two sweethearts whispering about?” Tonks asked mischievously.

Hermione decided to respond truthfully en español.

_ “Cedric was just telling me why you would have such a use for a man who’s nickname is synonymous with shit,” _ she said.  _ “I personally think having him around is a bad idea, but if he’s indebted to the cause then I suppose it’s okay to keep him around.” _

She turned to Cedric and winked, but since her star-eye was covered it just looked like she blinked weird.

_ “We’re still getting used to — _ ahem— we’re still getting used to the language change,” said Cedric innocently. “Only language I couldn’t get the hang of was Pidgin and, when I tried, Hermione just held her hand up and said ‘no’.”

“Had fun living in a house full of women?” Fred asked.

“Well, can’t complain,” he said. “It smelled nice, there was lots of space, things to do, and there’s just something comforting about knowing that there’s thirty toilets in the house with twenty rolls in each.”

Hermione snorted into her water glass.

“You mean to say there’s an island with a house full of women?” said Mundungus keenly. “How many men?”

“None of your business,” Hermione snapped. “They would not be interested in a coward! You’re lucky I didn’t have to pull you as witness today or there would be some serious inquiries regarding why you would be tailing Harry.”

"You were supposed to protect him!" Sirius shouted at Mundungus.

While that was argued out, Hermione slowly ate, rubbing her forehead and hoping her migraine would ebb. There was so much energy surrounding this place trying to keep it in a pocket of reality. It wasn’t like regular magical architecture. Perhaps it was the Fidelius Charm.

Hermione snapped back in the moment when people stood up to clear their plates. She drew her wand and tapped her empty plate so that it marched itself to the sink for washing.

“Hermione!” the adults in the room admonished.

“We just had a trial about underaged magic!” said Mrs. Weasley.

“Ay.” She slapped her forehead. “Don’t lecture me! I’m of-age in my country! I’m used to using magic.”

“Those laws are not upheld since you are a citizen of Britain,” said Kingsley sternly.

Hermione tapped her wand against her head.

“I’m not a citizen,” she said.

“What?”

“I. Am not. A citizen,” she enunciated. “I never have been. Everyone just assumed I was and I never had any documents made because wizards don’t know how to tie up loose ends. They didn’t know where to send me, so I ended up in the system under Hermione Doe until I was adopted.”

“I see,” said Kingsley. “So you are a citizen of…”

“The Dominican Republic.” Hermione tapped her nails against the table, feeling her temper rise. “I want that Portly asshole demoted, if not fired! He abducted me! You don’t know what it’s like not knowing where you came from or where you are!”

Cedric rested his hand on her arm.

“It’s okay, Hermione,” said Sirius. “I personally escorted him out of the Ministry. He has a trial for improper conduct, we’ll need you as a witness before you go back to school.”

“Alright, fine,” she said and sighed. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“Can you lend a hand with clean up?” Fred asked.

“I will not,” said Hermione. “I have been awake for two days and I sass-mouthed the Wizengamot.”

“You’re lucky they didn’t expel  _ you _ for that,” said Harry.

“Joke’s on them,” said Hermione, getting to feet. “Good night, everyone. Buenas noches, cariño.” She kissed Cedric on the corner of his mouth.

“Buenas noches,” he replied.

Hermione trudged upstairs to her room, stumbling a little as dizziness took over. She hadn’t had days like this since third year. She barely managed to do her night care routine before collapsing face first onto her bed. She sighed and hummed before promptly passing out.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was bound to happen sooner or later. My mom and I have finally had enough and need to break free from my dad. I have opened commissions for short stories as well as drawing commissions, the prices can be found on my blog: becausewhynotofficial. Also for less than the price of a Master Series electro shank shock blade with handle, you can support me on ko-fi at: thouartahufflepuff. Please consider donating so that I can keep creating in a safer, less stressful environment. If you can’t donate, please reblog my commission page to get the word around.
> 
> And thanks for your support.

 

Hermione groggily lifted her head and wiped drool off the corner of her mouth.

“What?”

“Mum says lunch is ready,” said Ginny. “You’ve been asleep nearly sixteen hours.”

Hermione rubbed her face and sighed. It didn’t feel nearly long enough but she supposed she might as well get up. She didn’t have a lot of time with everyone and she would prefer to hang out with them rather than sleep the days away.

Yawning broadly, she dragged herself out of bed, dressed in a yellow romper, and released her hair. She brushed her teeth before going downstairs to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was just placing a tray of sandwiches in the middle of the table. There was also a veggie tray and a bowl of crisps.

“Afternoon, sleepyhead,” Fred and George chorused.

Hermione plunked down beside Cedric and rested her chin in her hand.

“Hi,” she said. “We didn’t really get to talk much yesterday, did we.”

“Can’t say we have,” said George.

“We’ve been looking forward to having you and Cedric back,” said Fred.

“Never know when we’ll get inspiration from you two,” George added.

“That’s nice,” said Hermione, delicately placing a sandwich on her plate. “What have you all been doing for fun around here?”

“There isn’t that much to do,” said Ginny. “And ever since Harry had a run-in with a Dementor, Mum isn’t keen on letting us out of the house.”

“Sirius is following us to see Phantom of the Opera,” said Harry. “He couldn’t get a ticket, so he’ll just be in the standing room.”

“When will you take  _ us _ to see a play?” George asked.

“When musicals become accessible to the public and not strictly for the people that the musicals and plays preach against.”

“Amen,” said Cedric, lifting his glass of water.

“So you’ll take us one day?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Hermione. “We’ll find a way to get tickets to see a show. Maybe something off West End. Anyway, what are our plans for today?”

“Fred and George have mostly been inventing,” said Ginny. “Harry and Ron are scrambling to get their summer homework done. I’ve mostly been reading or listening to the radio.”

“That’s no fun,” said Hermione.

“Well _ you’ve _ probably been reading all summer,” said Ron.

“Not really,” Cedric replied. “I could barely keep up with her. I don’t think I could have even if I wasn’t injured.”

“What’d you two love birds do?” Fred and George asked.

“Swam in the reef,” said Cedric. “That was pretty cool, and we saw a shark. Um, we went hiking in the rainforest, sang karaoke, tried international foods, saw the magical center for the Pacific, Kilokilo, and the magical center for the Caribbean, Luesma. What else? Hermione jumped off a cliff into the ocean and drove a motorcycle. I hung out with Viktor quite a bit, he’s really a cool bloke. I’m glad we get along because that would have been an awkward rooming situation otherwise.”

“Hold on,” said George.

“Back up,” said Fred.

“To which part?”

“The cliff bit.”

Hermione smiled as Cedric rehashed everything and brought out one of their photo albums to show them.

“Oh!” said Hermione, tapping Cedric on the arm. “Did you tell them?”

“No, I didn’t get a chance,” said Cedric. “I spent most of yesterday asleep. All we really talked about was what was going on here and my new arm.”

“Tell us what, dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked, pouring some more water for Cedric out of a pitcher.

“Okay,” said Cedric, taking a deep breath. “I got a job offer.”

“Really?” said Professor Lupin, eyebrows shooting to his hairline. “Where at?”

“The East Asian Ministry,” said Cedric, lifting his chin proudly. “They heard about my radios and I was interviewed and they hired me on the spot.”

“Do they know of your … furry, little problem?” Harry asked.

Professor Lupin coughed to hide a laugh.

“I’m not sure,” he said truthfully. “But I get time off for chronic illnesses. That’s what Mr. Matsumoto said. I get to work on bringing wizards into modern times technology-wise. We’ll probably be inventing our own products in no time. All I have to do is pass my N.E.W.T.s in Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Transfiguration, Charms, and Muggle-Studies. He said the more N.E.W.T.s the better, but if I can quit a couple classes I think I should. That way I can fill more orders and save up for the move to Japan.”

“That sounds wonderful,” said Professor Lupin.

“Speaking of school, everyone at Hogwarts is going to go insane when they see your new ‘do,” said Ginny. “Both of you. I personally think you look better than ever, Cedric.”

“Thanks, Ginny, I appreciate that,” said Cedric. “I used this face mask that got rid of a lot of my scars and I know I tanned quite a bit.”

Hermione pressed her fingers to her mouth. She might as well tell everyone now.

“I’m not returning to Hogwarts,” she said.

“Come again?” said Harry.

“I am not returning to Hogwarts,” Hermione repeated, enunciating every word.

“Why?”

“Why?” Hermione snorted incredulously. “That school is trying to kill me! Do you know how many near death experiences I have had?”

“Three?”

“Ten!” She counted off on her fingers. “Troll, Quirrellmort, Basilisk, Pettigrew, Dementors, drowning, dragon tail to the head, cursed necklace, drowning again, Barty Crouch Jr. Am I forgetting anything?”

“Pneumonia and appendicitis,” said Cedric. “But those could have happened regardless.”

“Listen,” said Hermione. “I know how it’s going to look but I can’t go back to Hogwarts. The only thing that kept me there before were you guys but I just … I can’t.” She shook her head. “I can’t. I’ll be much better off at Castelobruxo.”

“When do you leave for Brazil?” Ginny asked.

“School starts Monday the fourth,” Hermione replied. “Cousin Cecilia is coming next week and taking me home after we see you off at King’s Cross. Soon as I get home, we take the boat to school.”

“Sounds like a busy weekend,” said Harry.

“My school trunk is already packed and Crookshanks is still in D.R.,” she said. “I just brought enough for two weeks. Cedric and I are probably going to stay with my parents after Phantom of the Opera and then we’ll be back here.”

“That’s too bad,” said George. “If we got permission to continue Theater Club we were going to do Beauty and the Beast and cast you as Belle.”

“That’s sweet,” said Hermione. "I would have loved to play Belle."

“Professor McGonagall already misses you,” said Professor Lupin. “Said you would have been an excellent prefect and, one day, Head Girl.”

“I’ll miss her, too,” she said. “I’ll miss all my friends. You know what? I should write to Hannah, Padma, and Daphne, and ask them if they want to meet up at Diagon Alley. Harry, can I borrow Hedwig? It didn’t make sense to bring Stephen.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Harry.

“Thanks, brah.”

“How will you get to Diagon Alley?” Ginny asked. “Mum’s locked up the floo powder.”

“I’ll take my motorcycle.”

“Motorcycle?” Fred and George breathed.

“Can we see?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, okay.” Hermione got up and led them all to the front of the house where her bike was parked. “This is Renata’s. She’s letting me borrow it since she can apparate.”

“Can I have a go?” George asked. “Please?”

“Can you drive a motorcycle?”

“Er… no.”

“I’ll drive,” she said and ran upstairs to get her shoes, keys, purse, and helmet. “Cedric, cariño, need anything from the store?”

“Oreos and peanut butter,” he said, giving her a light kiss.

“You got it.” She mounted her motorcycle. “Hop on.”

George clapped his hands, took the spare helmet from Cedric, and got on behind her.

“I want a turn when you get back,” said Ginny.

“Sure thing, Gin,” she said and turned the engine over.

“George Gideon Weasley!” Mrs. Weasley shouted. “You get back—“

“Hang on!”

Hermione tore down the street, the roar of the engine echoing off the buildings. George tightened his grip around her and whooped.

The store wasn’t too far away but she had to find a parking spot which was slightly more difficult with it being summer and all.

“Has it been this hot all summer?” she asked, taking out her church fan to cool herself as they walked to the store.

“Pretty much,” said George. “We’re in a drought.”

“Huh.” Hermione entered the store and grabbed a basket.

George looked around the store in interest. Wizard stores weren’t exactly organized and they definitely didn’t have the same foods.

“You can pick something,” she said, swiping a package of Oreos into the basket. “I’ve got money on me. Always keep twenty quid in your bag for emergency.”

“How much is that?”

“About one galleon,” she replied.

“Huh.” George tipped his head and examined a package of tim tams before placing them in her basket. “Those exchange rates don’t quite add up do they?”

“It’s a little ridiculous,” she said. “Especially since a lot of countries don’t have silver or gold backing their dollars anymore. The money is only as good as the economy. Honestly, it would make more sense for wizards to convert to paper money whilst backing it up with galleons, sickles, and knuts.”

“I guess,” said George, scratching his head. “Would certainly make registers smaller.”

“Oi, sweetheart,” said a man in his late twenties. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“Why no,” said Hermione, forcing sarcasm. “This is my first time out of the house, and pápà forbade mirrors lest I fall victim to vanity.”

“It’s just a compliment,” he snapped and turned away, muttering an insult under his breath.

Though it stung, Hermione grabbed George by the wrist before he could throw hands.

“Don’t start,” she said. “I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“He’s a git!” George argued. “He’d deserve it.”

“I know,” said Hermione, dropping a jar of peanut butter in the basket, “but we’d still get in trouble and do you really want to explain to your mum that the first time you went out in London, you picked a fight?”

“I guess not,” he conceded.

Hermione also grabbed a box of pads, remembering she forgot to bring some and she was due to start any day. After checking out, they walked back to the motorcycle, Hermione stuffing the shopping bag into her purse. In that span of time, she got catcalled by three blokes.

“How do you deal with that?” George asked.

“I just do.”

“Does every girl face it?”

Hermione looked at him dead in the eye and said very plainly, “Pretty much.”

“Blimey,” he breathed.

Nodding, Hermione put her helmet on and mounted the bike, flinching slightly when the hot metal touched her legs. She directed a light cooling charm with a flick of her hand, the accidental frost instantly melting.

“Hermione,” said George. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

“Hm?” she tried to glance back but just clonked her helmet against his. “Yeah, sure.”

She started the engine and drove them to the nearest park, finding a parking space near the entrance. They walked for a little bit until they found a secluded spot under some shade. Most people were trying to keep out of the heat so it wasn’t too difficult.

“What’s up?” she asked.

George wrung his hands and looked around as if someone were eavesdropping.

“I’m not just telling you this because you’re leaving,” he said. “It’s part of it but I also know you’re good at keeping secrets when it matters.”

Hermione nodded but said nothing in hopes that it would encourage him to continue.

“I don’t really know who else to tell,” George continued. “I’m sure Cedric already knows. He knows everything about everyone, but I actually need to say this out loud.”

“Go on.”

George took a deep breath. “I fancy men.”

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, thinking of what to say.

“Alright,” she said at last.

“Alright?”

“Alright.” Hermione leaned back against the bench. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Are you surprised?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Not that it was obvious, I’m just not good with this stuff. Would you prefer if I were surprised?”

“I don’t know.” George released a breath. “I’m still me.”

“Why wouldn't you be?"

“I’m sorry,” said George. “I had a whole list of things prepared to say.”

“George,” said Hermione, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s part of who you are and I’m glad you told me. I won’t tell anyone else because this is your thing. And, yes, Cedric probably already knows but he’s good with secrets, too. You can always talk to him you know.”

“I can?”

“Mmhm. He’s bisexual,” she said. “He likes men and women and just because he’s in a relationship with me doesn’t make his identity any less valid. Oh… I probably shouldn't have said that. Though, it's not like it's a secret. He doesn't keep it a secret. Just in case, I won't tell anyone else."

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” said George, nodding slowly.

“Why can’t you tell Fred this?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know… I'm just not sure how he’d react.” George sighed and ran his hands down his face. “I also wanted to tell you because you know what it’s like to be in love with your best friend.”

“Ah,” said Hermione,  nodding slowly.

“I don’t want to ruin my friendship with Lee,” George groaned. “It’s just… he’s brilliant and funny and always seems to know what to say.”

“Listen, George,” said Hermione. “Keeping your feelings in like this will make you explode, but I understand your reasoning for not saying anything. If you decide to come out and you want a friend with you, I’ll be there. Okay?”

“Okay,” said George. He looked at her and smiled. “Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime,” she said and stuck out her pinkie. “I solemnly swear I won’t tell anyone your secret.”

George grinned and hooked his pinkie with hers. Hermione kissed her thumb while their fingers were hooked and spit the secret in the dirt.

“Now I’m bound to keep your secret,” she said, releasing him. “If I manage to spill, bad juju for a week.”

He laughed. “Thanks, Hermione.”

“No problemo,” she said and got to her feet. “Come on. If I’m boiling out here I can’t imagine how you’re dealing.”

Soon enough, they were back to Grimmauld Place.

“That was fun,” said George, removing his helmet and running his fingers through his hair.

“Sure was,” Hermione replied, letting herself into the house.

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?”

While Mrs. Weasley was ripping George a new one, Hermione went off to find Cedric. She didn’t need to look far, he was in the parlor on the first floor chatting with Fred.

“Hi,” she said, wrapping her arms around Cedric’s neck and kissing his cheek. “Anything happen while we were gone?”

“Yeah,” said Cedric. “I’ve got to go to the scrapyard.”

“Why?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Check it out,” he said and gave her a letter.

_ Dear Cedric, _

_ I know it’s short notice but I’ve been doing research in pubs around London and I notice a recurring music device called a jukebox. I was hoping you would be able to make one for me for the Three Broomsticks. I have included an advanced payment for supplies and I can pay the rest when it’s completed. Just name your price. I think music would add just the perfect touch to my inn. _

_ Best Wishes, _

_ Madam Rosmerta _

_ P.S. Hope you are well and if you can get me a jukebox you’ll get free drinks for life. _

“That’s wonderful!” said Hermione.

“And now that I’ve got a working arm I can get it done!” he said cheerfully. “I’ve got to hunt for an old jukebox and parts but I think I’ve got enough to buy one.”

“He and I were also talking business,” said Fred. “Found out from Harry that since Cedric couldn’t get his winnings officially, he gave them to me and George to open our joke shop after we graduate.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Told him we wouldn’t mind sharing a store front with him.”

“And I was saying that I was flattered but that I’m set after graduation,” said Cedric.

Hermione hummed. “Okay. Well, have fun dumpster diving, cariño. I’ll get out the Dr. Bronner’s for when you get back.”

“Appreciate it.”

He kissed her lightly and got to his feet, no doubt to change into more appropriate attire before going digging through junk behind appliance stores, dumps, vintage stores, and scrapyards.

Hermione smiled. He had perked up some. She could tell he was having doubts about coming here.

“I offered to join him,” said Fred, stretching his arms out in front of him. “I’ve been going stir-crazy in here.”

“I can imagine why,” said Hermione, sitting in Cedric’s seat. “It’s a small house.”

“It was smaller before we moved in,” Ginny scoffed, entering the room. “Sirius had a few more bedrooms added and a ballroom underneath the kitchen. Not sure why he’d add one.”

Hermione perked up with interest. “Ballroom?”

Ginny nodded. “Going to dance?”

“Probably,” said Hermione. “But I just solved our boredom problem. Fred, I need you to transfigure us some hockey sticks.”

“Sure thing!” said Fred. “Just one question. What are hockey sticks?”

Hermione found some paper and drew the shape out with a pen from her bag.

“Like this,” she said. “They’re about the size of golf clubs. You do know what those are, right?”

“Yeah, Dad has a set but he doesn’t know how to play.”

“Brill.”

Hermione gathered the kids in the house and rolled up a sock into a ball as they convened to the ballroom.

It was elegant and a decent size to hold a good party. It would also be a good place to hide. Hermione imagined a table and chairs could be set up for Order meetings. In fact, she could see that the walls were just coverups. She’d bet her left foot that there were plans hidden behind them.

Turning away from the walls, Hermione flicked her fingers to create bright orbs of light to brighten up the room.

“Right,” she said. “Fred, George, you be on my team. Harry, Ron, Ginny, you be the other team.”

“Why divide it like that?” Harry asked.

“Because if I put Ginny with Fred and George, they’d kick our butts,” she explained.

Ginny grinned and Harry gave a conceded nod.

“So, here are the rules.”

Mrs. Weasley didn’t mind the kids playing indoor hockey in the ballroom since they weren’t making too much of a frackus and weren’t breaking anything. Plus, Fred and George were too preoccupied to experiment. At least, until they got bored but they were totally into it.

When they lost track of points, they ended up sock racing across the floor. They had to stop when Fred and George made the floor slick with a jinx and Ron broke the wall with his knees. Mrs. Weasley was furious as all get out.

By the time people started returning home from work, Cedric came back from dumpster diving smelling terrible but looking absolutely cheerful. When he got done in the shower, dinner was ready and everyone who was having dinner was home. Mr. Weasley and Cedric were talking animatedly about No-Maj appliances.

“It’s amazing what people throw away,” said Cedric, swallowing his mouthful of chicken. “When rubbish gets piled up, it squashes the oxygen and so the things stop decaying and preserves it. I’ll tell you what though, it’s no fun getting bags dropped on your head, especially when you aren’t expecting it.”

“You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Mr. Weasley asked.

“Nah, just some sticky stuff on my shirt,” said Cedric. “I think it was a watermelon at some point.”

“Not at the table, please,” Mrs. Weasley begged.

“Sorry,” said Cedric. “Anyway, I’ve got some ideas that will really make the jukebox dope.”

"No,” said Hermione.

"Wicked tight."

"Better."

“I’d be happy to follow along,” said Mr. Weasley. “If you don’t mind of course.”

“Not at all,” said Cedric cheerfully.

Hermione was glad to see him so lively. Hopefully he wouldn’t be  _ too _ busy with the jukebox.

“Can’t wait to see the finished product, Ced,” said Tonks.

Once again, while dessert was being served, Tonks regaled everyone with her impressions.

“Cedric, do Professor Snappy,” said Hermione. “It always makes me laugh.”

“Oh, come on…”

“Please?” she batted her lashes. “For me?”

“Alright,” he said then pulled his hair out of its ponytail and dipped his fingers in his water glass to flatten his fringe against the sides of his face. He hunched over, lowered his voice to a drawl, and sneered. “I am Professor Snappy, the potions master.”

Hermione immediately began giggling and within minutes Cedric had everyone clutching their sides. Even Mrs. Weasley couldn’t manage look stern.

Cedric paused and flipped his hair like Rita Hayworth in Gilda.

“Buenas tardes, Snape-a-doodle,” he said and looked over his shoulder.

Everyone turned to the door and saw Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall, the former redder in the face than a strawberry Country Club.

“Mr. Diggory,” said Snape coldly. “Do you relish in acting in such an undignified manner all for a cheap laugh?”

“Bold of you to assume I have any dignity,” said Cedric. He twitched a little and narrowed his eyes. “Watch it.”

Snape glowered at him.

“Time for an Order meeting, I take it?” said Sirius.

“What on Earth gave you that idea, Black?” said Snape sarcastically.

“Don’t start,” Professor McGonagall sighed.

“Children, why don’t you go ahead and go to your rooms?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“I’m staying,” said Cedric. “I want to be in the—” he twitched again— “loop. Stop.”

“If Ced’s staying, we’re staying,” Fred and George chorused.

“I’m staying with Cedric,” said Hermione.

“I want to stay,” said Harry. “And anything I hear in here I will just tell to Ron and Ginny.”

“It might be good to let them know a little so they’ll stop trying to eavesdrop,” said Mr. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley huffed and swiped her wand to clear away the dishes. “ _ Fine! _ It seems I’m out numbered!”

“Do you mind if I sit beside you, Miss Granger?” Professor McGonagall asked.

Hermione scooted over to make room. “I don’t mind at all, Professor.”

“Well,” said Sirius. “The meeting is called to order. I think, first, we should discuss Harry’s trial. Hermione, thank you again for acquitting Harry and preventing his expulsion.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Weasley. “Well done.”

The table erupted with applause led by Fred, George, and Cedric.

Hermione raised her hand.

“Yes, Hermione?”

“Yeah, so, you know how I spoke to Madam Bones after the trial?” she said. “She told me to tell you that number one, you have her support, and number two, that since the Minister failed in getting Harry expelled to stop his spread of propaganda, he’s going to place a spy within Hogwarts. I don’t know who they’re getting but only someone desperate would take that position now.”

“What legislature?” Cedric asked, looking at Sirius.

Sirius stiffened and everyone furrowed their brows in confusion.

“There was a proposition to make it so that werewolves couldn’t attend Hogwarts,” he said reluctantly. “Luckily it was turned down before it could even be considered but… there’s talk.”

“I just need one more year,” said Cedric, tensing with anxiety. “One more year is all and then I can go to Japan and live the life I’ve always wanted — STOP IT!” He snapped at Snape.

“What is he doing?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“He’s trying to read my mind,” Cedric growled. “He does it to everyone except it’s on purpose so that he knows your insecurities and he plays on them to make people as miserable as possible!”

“Severus!” Professor McGonagall gasped.

“Oh…” Cedric breathed. “ _ That’s _ why you are the way you are? It's no excuse!” He paused and looked at Hermione. “What N.E.W.T.s does my contract require?”

“Transfiguration, Charms, Muggle Studies, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes,” she said.

“Brilliant.” He snapped his head over to Snape. “You’re pathetic and I’m dropping potions. I refuse to be taught by a man who abuses children.”

“I had a terrible childhood!” Snape shouted, nearly purple with anger.

“I understand,” said Cedric, nodding slowly. “I’m having a terrible childhood right now, but at least I don’t use my legilimency for nefarious purposes.”

“You’re a Legilimens, Cedric?” said Professor McGonagall. “How?”

“I’ve always been an empath,” Cedric explained. “People tend to think loudly and I’ve honed it in. I learned a lot more from Tía Constanza. I can now read minds or even transfer thoughts with just a touch. I don’t like to mess with peoples’ thoughts—” he sighed. “Why is it that everyone instantly thinks of the things they want to keep secret the most? And so loudly. It’s okay, I’ve been keeping secrets for years and, as you can see, I know when someone is invading my mind.”

“It’s one thing if you’re picking up on what someone is already going to say,” said Hermione. “Or knowing how they’re feeling and knowing what to avoid to set them off. But just invading it like that?” She shook her head. “That’s illegal in some countries.”

“We’re getting off subject,” said Cedric. “I’m not expelled am I?”

“No,” said Professor McGonagall before Snape could speak. “In fact, we were going to wait until the letters came in but I think you deserve to know now that you were nominated to be Head Boy. It was unanimous.”

“May I retract my vote?” Snape asked through gritted teeth.

Cedric pumped his fist. “Yesss … Oh, my God, I have so many ideas. I’d like to run them by you after the meeting if that’s alright, Professor McGonagall.”

“Yes, it’s absolutely fine.”

Hermione stroked Cedric’s forearm with her thumb, projecting her happiness for him.

The meeting went on about this and that. It was rather boring. At least to Hermione. Most of it didn’t apply to her anyway.

“Any last notes?” Kingsley asked.

“Hermione is going to speak to the Goblins and try to get them on our side,” said Bill. “I’ve arranged a meeting.”

“Correction,” said Hermione. “I am going to try and get them to reject Voldemort’s side should he try to offer them anything. I think that might go over better than trying to get them to fight alongside us. They control the currency and whatever is kept inside vaults, they can make life very difficult for whoever they are against.”

“That is fair,” said Kingsley, nodding thoughtfully. “You are a force to be reckoned with Miss Granger. I don’t think it is Dumbledore the Minister should be afraid of, but you.”

“Oh, he’s afraid of me, too,” said Hermione. “I back up everything with undeniable facts, well-written essays, and in-depth research.”

“And that is why you will be Minister for Magic one day,” said Cedric, kissing her cheek. “If you aren’t some top notch lawyer for the Caribbean Ministry.”

“I fully intend to return to England and make the Ministry a better government,” said Hermione. “Based on how everything is at Castelobruxo, I might also be in favor of educational reform.”

“Before I forget,” said Sirius. “There is suspicious talk. Talk of something Voldemort is seeking. Something he didn’t have the last time.”

“Like a weapon?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” said Sirius. “He’ll be willing to do anything to get it.”

“You need to protect yourself, Harry,” said Cedric. “Who knows what our good friend Morty did during that ritual. You’re bonded to him until death do you part.”

“Which is why Abuela carved you a protective amulet,” said Hermione, getting a velvet bag out of Cedric’s backpack. She removed a black onyx ring and four smoky quartz figurines. “The ring is to help protect you every day from evil. It should also keep unwanted people out of your head.”

“Brilliant,” said Harry, examining the ring. “Do you have one Cedric?”

Cedric dug under his collar and held up a cream colored pendant. “Citrine.”

“Ah.” Harry looked at the figurines in confusion.

“These are your guardians,” said Hermione. “Put them at the four corners of your bed.”

She pointed to the dog figurine. “Moony and Padfoot.” The stag. “Prongs.” The doe. “Your Mum.” Then the turtle. “And me. They’ll perform protective energy around your bed and prevent nightmares.”

“Do they work?”

“Did you even ask that?” Hermione challenged.

Harry looked at her, then the ring, then the figurines. “Sorry, it just slipped out.” He slid the ring onto his forefinger and released a breath like a weight was taken off his chest.

“Wow,” he said. “That worked fast.”

“Abuela is the best,” said Hermione confidently.

“If Potter is connected to the Dark Lord,” Snape interrupted. “Perhaps it be best he learned Occlumency.”

“For once, I agree with Severus,” said Sirius.

“Alright,” said Cedric. “I’ll teach him. I have a book on it and who better to learn to block than a natural Legilimens?”

“So, it’s decided,” said Sirius. “Harry will use those protections and practice Occlumency with Cedric. Anything else?”

“A word of warning,” said Kingsley. “Be careful, Cedric. There—”

“I know,” said Cedric sourly. “Werewolves are just savages waiting to bite any unsuspecting person. I won’t give the Werewolf Capture Unit any reason to arrest me.”

“That is all, then,” said Kingsley.

“Right,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Off to bed, the lot of you.”

“Sirius, may I use your ballroom to build my jukebox?” Cedric asked.

“Go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

“Miss Granger,” said Professor McGonagall. “I don’t know when I’ll get the opportunity to tell you this, but I will miss you dearly.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” said Hermione earnestly. “I’ll miss most of the other teachers, too.”

“Most of us chipped in to give you a going-away present,” said Professor McGonagall.

“Oh, Professor,” said Hermione, touched. “It won’t be goodbye forever, I promise. Don’t forget, Chibuzo will be a student and I might just be inclined to give him the grand tour.”

The old witch smiled and gave Hermione a wrapped box and a card signed by all the teachers who would miss her.

While everyone else was leaving, Hermione opened up the gift. It looked to be a bookcase except it was twelve-inches by fourteen-inches. It was empty except for nine miniature books related to each Hogwarts subject she took.

“How cute!” she exclaimed.

“It’s a shrinking bookcase,” Professor McGonagall explained. “Go on and take out a book.”

Hermione plucked out the one on Transfiguration. Soon as it was away from the case, it expanded to a full-sized book.

“Oh, wow!” she said. She held it back to the case and marveled at how it shrunk down to fit. “Thank you so much Professor McGonagall.”

She gave her former teacher a giant hug, which was tightly returned.

“Goodbye, Miss Granger.”

“Goodbye, Professor.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know my characters seem to get punched in the face a lot but I have a reason for it this time.

 

The next few days, hanging out at Grimmauld Place was a bit like hanging out at Hermione’s homes except everyone did their thing in the same room. Ginny, Harry, and Ron were playing pool, Fred and George were working on prank ideas, Hermione was working on her idea and had been using up a lot of paper. Cedric had been filling out orders or working in his notebooks, but now he was quietly playing guitar scales, as his hands were locking up.

“How’s your mood today, Ced?” Ginny asked.

He’d had a horrible meltdown yesterday because Mrs. Weasley threw away his order forms thinking they were Fred and George’s. Luckily, Hermione had made copies and stowed them in her trunk, but she was furious Mrs. Weasley would destroy her sons' work.

“Not bad actually,” he replied. “I know it varies from moment to moment…”

“It’s fine, Harry’s been in a pissy mood, too,” said Ginny.

“Oi!” Harry scowled. “I think I have a right to be in a bad mood.”

“The key is to not take it out on others,” said Cedric. “You need healthy releases that do not harm others around you, especially when they are your friends and family. I’ve found yoga helps, you’re welcome to join me and Hermione.”

“Yoga, huh?” said Harry.

“Yoga, huh?” repeated Fred. “Next thing you know, you’ll be having spa night with the girls.”

“It’s not gay to practice self-care,” said Cedric.

“I didn’t say it was.”

“You were thinking it.” Cedric rolled his eyes. “Why are there so many restrictions on what’s masculine and feminine? You can’t even give a bloke a hug without it being weird. And anything like baking, fashion, or stuff like that is unmanly unless you can make money off of it."

“Amen,” said Hermione. “Ron, come look at this, I can’t get these runes right.”

Ron stood behind her, leaning against her chair.

“I think you should switch these two lines,” he said, pointing to her parchment. “Flows better.”

“Thanks,” she said, re-writing it out on a new piece of parchment.

“What are you working on?” he asked.

“Are you actually curious or being polite?”

“Curious.”

“Project that could revolutionize instant communication between wizards,” she looked at Cedric and smiled, “besides walkie-talkies.”

“Hey, I’m already working on something beyond walkie-talkies,” he said. “It’s going to be dope.”

“No.”

“Er… aces?”

“There you go.”

Cedric huffed a laugh and went back to playing. Soon, he’d be retreating to the ballroom to work on his jukebox. Hermione could tell he was frustrated with it. Anytime he got frustrated, he would step away and do something else for a little bit before returning.

"You've gotten good at playing the guitar, Ced," said Ginny. "Did you write any songs for Hermione?"

Cedric grinned. "I do know a song."

"Oh, bloody hell," Fred and George chorused when he played the opening chords.

"I will never let you let me leave, I promise I'm not lyin'," he sang. "Go ahead ask anybody who would see me tryin' I'm not goin'. If it seems like I did, I'm prolly waitin' outside."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed.

~o0o~

"I did it," said Bill to Hermione when he returned home.

"Did what?"

"I got you an audience with Ragnok," he said. "Two days from now. I know it isn't a lot of time to prepare…"

"You're right," said Hermione. "It isn't, but I'll do what I can. I'll need your help preparing because you know more about their culture having worked for them for so long."

"Yes, of course." He smiled. "This is rather exciting. Working on relations with Magical Beings."

"Isn't it?" she said. "Think of how much better society will be."

The next two nights, they worked on Hermione's platform for goblin rights. It was a good thing, too, because Hermione had no idea about actual goblin culture. But just because it was different than her cultures did not mean it was wrong. She'd just have to adapt and hope that her movement worked.

The night before, she couldn’t sleep. She ended up just staring at the wall until she saw Cedric’s magical signature pass by. She watched him walk down the stairs until, eventually, he disappeared behind the layers of magic.

She pushed back the covers, wrapped up in a dressing gown, and crept downstairs after him.

The rest of the house was dead silent making every step feel incredibly loud. Once she reached the door to the ballroom, she walked normally and hummed to notify Cedric of her presence.

He had completely taken over a corner of the room, the walls were plastered with papers and the floor littered with parts. Cedric was sorting through them when he looked up at her.

“Did I wake you?” he asked.

“No,” said Hermione. “I was already awake.”

She sat down behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle.

“Nightmare?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “Just intrusive thoughts.”

She hummed and pressed her cheek into his shoulder.

“Tell me about the jukebox,” she said in hopes to take his mind off those thoughts.

“Well, I think I’m on the verge of a breakthrough,” he said. “You know how wizards are flamboyant?”

“Mmhm.”

“So, I was thinking that any old jukebox that only plays records would be boring,” he said. “So, I’m building this to be able to play cassettes, records, radio, and these things called compact discs. They’ve been around for a while but they’re becoming more popular. The main thing I’m trying to work out is the laser to play them within the jukebox. The semi-conductor laser is about… mmh … 760 nanometers, which is infrared and a bit more difficult to replicate consistently without the aid of technology. I have to not only get the laser to the right frequency but I have to also make it about 600 nanometers wide, which is not exactly something you can eyeball.”

Hermione hummed and studied his findings. She wished she were good at mechanical things so she could help him.

“I’m really close to figuring it out,” Cedric assured her. “I’ve already got the cassette and record parts installed in the jukebox. Once I get this CD thing figured out I can customize it.”

“I know it will be brilliant,” said Hermione. “Tell me more.”

Though she didn’t understand a lot of what he was saying, she liked hearing Cedric talk about things he was passionate about. She sat with him while he bounced ideas off her and watched him work out Arithmancy problems to get the laser right and paired it with transfiguration to shape lenses. They just wouldn’t know if it worked until they put it in practice.

“Alright,” said Cedric, rubbing his face tiredly. “What test is this?”

Hermione opened one eye and looked down at the paper. She shifted and forced open her other eye so she could actually read it.

“According to your notebook… forty-three.”

“Right,” he said. “Forty-third times the charm.”

Before they could test it, Mr. Weasley entered the room.

“So sorry to interrupt,” he said. “Hermione, Bill’s just woken up, so you’ve got an hour to get ready to meet the goblins.”

“Alright,” said Hermione. “Thank you, Mr. Weasley.”

"Do you want me to pick you up when you're done?" Cedric asked, placing his safety goggles over his eyes.

"No, I’m meeting up with the girls afterwards and I plan on putting my motorcycle in my bag,” she replied, kissing his cheek. "I don't want to slow you down on your jukebox."

"Alright," he said and pressed his forehead against hers. "Good luck. I believe in you."

Hermione smiled and ran her fingers through his hair before following Mr. Weasley up the stairs so she could get ready.

It didn’t take her long to get ready and she dressed in the same outfit she wore to Harry’s trial, after checking that everything was in her accordion style folder, she was ready to go.

"Have you side-along apparated before, Hermione?" Bill asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Okay, good." He held out his arm. As soon as Hermione hooked her hand, they apparated.

Once more, Hermione couldn't breathe and saw nothing but darkness.

"You alright?" Bill asked.

Hermione coughed and cleared her throat.

"I'm fine," she said and looked around the room.

It was a white marble room filled with fireplaces. Other witches and wizards either apparated in or came out of the fireplaces.

"Bill!"

"Fleur!"

Fleur glided over to him and kissed him on the cheek. She turned her attention to Hermione and brightened up.

"Et Hermione!"

Hermione kissed the air by Fleur's cheek in greeting.

"What brings you here?" Fleur asked.

"I'm here as Founder and Chair Head of S.A.M.B.," she replied.

"Ah, very important business, oui?" Fleur smiled at Bill. "Do not forget our lunch date.”

"How could I?" he replied.

Fleur waved and went off to work, her hair a waving waterfall.

"I can see things are going well," said Hermione as Bill walked with her to Ragnok's office.

"Yeah," he said dreamily, though not by veela influence.

At 9:30 on the dot, Ragnok's door opened and the wizards he was meeting with filed out. Hermione narrowed her eye at them, not liking the aura they gave off.

"Weasley. Enter."

"Yes, sir."

Hermione followed and remained standing. Goblins were direct and to the point, they preferred eye contact because it meant they had nothing to hide. No sugar coating. Polite yet firm.

"Sit, please," said Ragnok.

Hermione sat and rested her folder on the desk.

"Speak," said Ragnok.

"Ragnok, my name is Hermione Sanchez-Granger and I am here today to talk to you about the Society for the Advancement of Magical Beings. The point of the society is to create equality and give magical beings inalienable rights." She removed her pad and pen, and gave Ragnok one of her pamphlets. "I know we can't solve society's problems today, but I would like to make a list of grievances you have and formulate a five-year and ten-year plan."

Ragnok took the pamphlet out of her hand and peered down his long nose at it. Hermione sat with her pen poised to take notes.

"And you think you can promise us these things?" he said.

"Promise is a strong word," said Hermione. "I prefer goals. Promises create problems."

Ragnok studied her and nodded once, then his glare hardened.

"If this is to get us on Dumbledore's side…"

"Respectfully interrupting," said Hermione. "This isn't about the War or Voldemort. This is about your rights. True, you have your own society and culture, but you also work so closely alongside wizards that we should be respecting that culture and society without denying you the rights we have in  _ our _ society."

"So about Magical Beings carrying wands?"

"We can't share how we make wands anymore than you would want us to know your metal-smithing techniques. I believe that when it comes to carrying wands there may be a new trade. Goblins creating magical items for wizards that can be bought in a shop, Goblins can buy wands and other goods." Hermione scribbled that down. "We can work out the finer details another time when I have a bit more political power."

"Fair," said Ragnok.

Okay, this was going better than expected. They talked a little more about certain laws that restricted Goblins and Hermione provided several solutions that could be expanded upon another time.

"I do have one other concern," said Ragnok. "What makes you think werewolves, house-elves, and Goblins are on the same level?"

"Elaborate, please."

"Werewolves are half-breeds," Ragnok sneered. "House-elves are slaves."

Hermione's eye twitched. He was baiting her.

"This isn't about classism, sir," she said tightly. "This is about those  _ classified _ as Magical Beings having civil rights denied to them. It's about filling in those denied rights. I suppose in a way it would handle classism and I think—”

"Do you really think I can't see what you're really doing?" Ragnok growled. "You're trying to get us to fight for Dumbledore!”

"You shouldn't  _ have _ to take a side," Hermione stressed. "However, if it were me, I wouldn't take the side of Wizard Hitler."

"I think this meeting is over."

"I suppose it is." Hermione stood up and bowed slightly. "Have a pleasant rest of your day, Ragnok."

She left with Bill, steaming a little over the last couple of minutes.

"That was a disaster," she muttered.

"Don't give up so quickly," said Bill. "You got him to listen for that long."

"I suppose I'll try again when I have more results from my cause," she said. "Thanks for setting up the meeting, Bill. I'll see you tonight or tomorrow or whatever."

"Alright, see you, Hermione."

Hermione ran two errands at the bank before going to the closest loo to change into high-waisted pedal pushers, an orange crop top, and chucks. She released her hair and fluffed it, then put on a pair of sunglasses.

Ready to go, she headed out into the bright streets of Diagon Alley, striding to Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Shoppe.

When she entered the shop, she saw Hannah, Padma, and Daphne waiting for her in a back booth.

“Hey,” she said, sitting down.

“Whoa!” Padma gasped. “Hermione?”

“Yep,” she said, shaka-signing at them.

“Well, you look like you’ve had an interesting summer,” said Daphne.

“Everyone at Hogwarts is going to freak,” said Hannah.

Hermione just nodded and perched her sunglasses on top of her head.

“Why did you ask us to meet, Hermione?” Padma asked. She gasped. “Ooh! Did Professor McGonagall tell you that all four of us are prefects and so you’re holding a meeting to prepare us?”

“That does sound like something I would do doesn’t it?” said Hermione. “I take it you haven’t received your letters?”

“Not yet,” said Padma. "Baba says it's because they haven't gotten a Defense teacher yet."

"That seems unreasonable," Daphne scoffed. "School starts at the end of the week! Diagon Alley is going to be a mad house!"

Hermione noticed a commotion and saw a flood of witches and wizards take up the street outside.

"I think the letters dropped," she said and looked at the girls. "Ever been to London?"

They shook their heads.

Hermione grinned. "You know… there's a bowling alley/arcade just a twenty minute walk from here. Want to go?"

"Out?" Padma asked. "Into London?"

"Why not?" said Hermione.

"Isn't it dangerous?" Hannah asked.

"We're in the center of London during tourist season," said Hermione. "Don't act like a tourist and you should be fine."

"Well…" said Daphne. "I am rather curious to see what Muggles do for fun."

"If Daphne's doing it then I'll do it," said Hannah.

Hermione looked at Padma questioningly.

"Alright," she said. "Why not? I don't have to be home until dinner anyway."

"Epa," said Hermione clapping her hands. "Come on, we gotta move through the crowds quick. If I have a panic attack here, I won't make it to Namco."

"Agreed," said Daphne.

The four girls joined hands before joining the river of people in Diagon Alley. Hermione led the way, hoping her power walk would be enough to get people to move. She nearly lost Daphne's hand a couple times, but she managed to get them to the exit and through the Leaky Cauldron.

"Oh, Hermione, dear!" came Mrs. Weasley's voice.

She exited the fireplace and swiped her hair out of her face creating a smudge of soot on her nose.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione. "I'll be going into London for a few hours. Do you need me to pick up anything from the market?"

"Oh, that's quite alright, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "Is it quite crowded?"

"Oh, yes," said Hermione. "You'll be there for hours."

Mrs. Weasley sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Of course. Be safe."

Hermione could tell Mrs. Weasley had a lot on her mind because if she were actually focusing on what the young witch was saying, the teens never would have made it out of the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione silently cast  _ Point Me, _ her forearm spun once before her finger pointed where they needed to go.

"This way," she said.

Despite the warnings, Padma, Hannah, and Daphne twisted and turned their heads trying to take everything in. They even begged Hermione to stop and take their pictures a couple of times like when they were on the Golden Jubilee bridge or when they passed by the London Eye. Hermione always had her camera on her, so she obliged and promised to send copies once they were developed. Honestly, there was a charming history to the city with old and modern architecture painting a picture of progression.

The day was sweltering but most of the tourists were aiming for places like the Aquarium or the museums. She was certain that very few would take interest in an arcade, bowling alley, and bumper cart place since those were practically everywhere. No, that was where the locals would be.

"What's the London Dungeon?" Daphne asked, staring intrigued at an advertisement.

"It's for tourists," said Hermione. "Actors and rides and whatnot about dark London history like Sweeney Todd, Jack the Ripper, torture chambers, things like that."

"Sounds spooky," said Hannah, grinning. "Maybe we'll sneak a bus out to London one weekend and go there."

"That'd be fun," said Daphne. "Hermione could get us tickets."

“About that…”

“What?” Daphne asked.

“I won’t be returning to Hogwarts,” she said. “Getting attacked by Crouch was the last straw not only for my parents but also for me. I was going to announce it on the last day of school but…”

“Oh,” said Hannah. “But… we were hoping to all be prefect pals. Giving tours, handing out detentions, things like that.”

“I know,” said Hermione. “Honestly, part of me still wants to convince my parents to let me go just one more year and transfer to Castelobruxo after I’ve taken my O.W.L.s, but I know better. A promise is a promise.”

“Well, we’ll just enjoy what time we have left together,” said Daphne. “You’ll be leaving a big hole, Mione.”

Hermione was touched. “Thanks, Daph."

They entered Namco's Funscape and a blast of air conditioning was a wonderful welcome.

"Come on," said Hermione, waving them in. She approached one of the counters and got them a lane.

"Is there a wait?" she asked.

"Nope," said the girl working the register. "Lane Twelve is open and yours."

"Thank you," said Hermione.

The bowling alley portion was all yellow with yellow floors, yellow vinyl seats, and yellow walls. Neon lights in the shape of bowling balls and pins decorated the area.

“So, how do we play?” Hannah asked after their names were punched into the machine.

“The goal is to take one of these bowling balls,” said Hermione, lugging a faded pink one off the rack. “And knock down all ten of the pins.”

Hermione rolled the ball down the aisle and knocked down about half the pins, the others followed her lead. Out of all of them, Daphne was the best bowler, quickly finding a form that worked for her.

Halfway through the game they ordered snacks and drinks from the counter, not thinking about how they were touching balls that were rolling on the ground as they stuffed chips into their mouths. When their time was up, they had three new inside jokes and were riding off an energy high.

“What should we do next?” Padma asked.

~o0o~

"GO! GO! GO!" Daphne cheered as Hermione and Padma shot down monsters.

Hermione had never seen the Slytherin so excited. Perhaps it was the sugar rush. Coca-Cola had a bit more caffeine than butterbeer. Hannah was absorbed in the  _ Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles _ game right next to their  _ Area 51 _ .

"Well, hello ladies," came a familiar voice.

Hermione stiffened and pulled the trigger on the blue plastic gun harder. This happened last time, too. Was she destined to never enjoy arcades? She hadn't really thought of Brent since that day two years ago.

"Come here often?" Brent asked, leaning close to Daphne.

Daphne scoffed and moved to stand on the other side of Padma. Unperturbed, he got in Hermione's personal space while his friends stood nearby attempting to look cool in their baggy pants.

"Did it hurt?" Brent asked her. "When you fell from heaven."

Ugh, seriously? Suddenly she gets attractive and he wants to get with her? He probably didn't even recognize her. Prick.

"This conversation hurts worse than when I crawled out of hell," she growled.

Padma and Daphne laughed, which caught Hannah's attention.

"High Score!" the  _ Area 51 _ game announced.

The screen allowing their initials blipped.

"You put yours in," said Padma.

Hermione grinned and shot out three letters.

A.S.S.

The girls giggled like school boys over that.

"Come on," said Hermione. "We've only got a little bit of time left and I want to try and get enough tickets for a teddy bear."

"Sounds great," said Brent, putting an arm around Hermione. His friends took that as a sign to cozy up to the others.

"She didn't invite you," Daphne snapped, elbowing whats-his-face. Hermione wasn't sure she even went to school with him. Brent must've had a new set of back-up singers.

"Ooh, fiery aren't we?"

"I'm Brent," he continued. "What's your name?"

"None of your business, Brant."

"It's  _ Brent _ ," he said, looking agitated.

"Brunt?"

" _ Brent. _ "

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Hermione, pushing him off her. "Does it offend you when someone doesn't pronounce your name right?"

Brent furrowed his brow in confusion. "Do I know you?"

"Hermione, who is this guy?" Padma asked.

"The reason I got expelled."

The three girls gasped.

"Granger…" Brent breathed. "So, I guess you weren't such an ugly duckling after all. Guess you might have a chance with me after all."

"Bold of you to assume that I would lower my standards so far," Hermione replied coolly.

Daphne, Padma, and Hannah laughed.

"Why don't you just piss off?" said Hermione.

"Yeah," Hannah, Daphne, and Padma chimed.

Brent went red in the face. "You're such a spastic bitch!"

"Yeah, maybe I am," she said, reaching into her pocket to tap a message to Cedric on her emergency medallion. "But _ you _ are a self-centered, ignorant, pig-headed bigot who rides off of daddy's coattails. Let me guess, you go out partying every night but make your parents think you and your friends are having tea parties and building connections when really all you are is setting your path where you blow your inheritance money on girls and once that runs out you will find yourself alone and  _ pathetic _ !"

Stars danced across her vision and she found herself lying on the floor, cheek throbbing familiarly. They always went for the left side. Her ears rang from the blow and she couldn't see a thing except for blue spots and stars over silhouettes of feet.

Someone helped her up and brought her to a chair. Cold plastic settled over her eye, and though she remained light-headed, her hearing cleared.

"Miss? Can you hear me Miss?"

"Hermione, are you okay?" Padma asked.

"No, I'm not," said Hermione. "I can't believe I'm leaving the country at the end of the week and I have to deal with  _ that  _ hijo de puta! He humiliated me in front of my friends!"

"Hannah and Daphne sure gave him hell," she said. "I think he'll be digging polish chips out of his face for a week."

"Miss," said the first voice. "I am so terribly sorry you went through this here. I would like to offer you a full refund for your bowling. Namco's does not endorse this type of behavior and your friends already explained that that hooligan has hurt you before. We called the proper authorities."

Who used hooligan anymore?

"Daddy's little boy is going to get off scot-free," she spat. "It happened before! I'd like to see him sit and squirm in a holding cell, but I want to go home! Right now!"

"We can take you home," said Daphne. "Where do you live?"

"I'll take her home."

"Cedric," Hermione sighed with relief.

He took her hand and kissed it.

"I'll get you home," he said. "Fred and George will take Daphne, Padma, and Padma home while we talk to the authorities."

"They're here, too?"

"Of course," said Cedric. "While I'm sure I could fight Brent with one arm, I wasn't so sure about his one-dimensional, unnamed, background characters."

Hermione hummed and tried to see where he was but her eye was too swollen and she didn't want to take her eyepatch off.

They waited until the police came and Hermione could give her report. Brent protested and when his blaming fell on deaf ears, he resulted to insulting Hermione further. So, she did the only thing she knew how to do in this type of situation: Bawl her eyes out and clutch onto Cedric.

"All right," said Cedric. "He's gone."

Hermione immediately stopped crying but she still sniffled and hiccoughed. Cedric collected the refund from the manager.

"And here are a few vouchers for free bowling and laser tag," said the manager. "Again, I am terribly sorry you had to experience this with us."

"Thank you," said Cedric, speaking for her. "I'll go ahead and take her home."

Hermione held onto Cedric's arm tightly and took small steps, afraid to trip.

"Is Mrs. Weasley back from shopping yet?" she asked.

"No," said Cedric. "I imagine Diagon Alley is crazy, stupid crowded. I don't think she'll be home until dinner."

"Want to make her life easier and order in Chinese with my refund?" Hermione asked.

"You order and I pick it up?"

"Works for me."

"Hang on tight and think of Grimmauld Place."

Hermione hated apparition. She felt like she was wrapped up in a plastic bag and shot through space.

"We're here," said Cedric. "Let me help you sit."

Hermione took off her eyepatch and looked up at Cedric. Well, his energy signature.

"That eye looks bad," he said. "I'll get you some more ice and maybe Mrs. Weasley has a potion that will help with that."

"Okay."

Hermione looked around the house. Ron and Harry were in their room, Ginny was in the kitchen, a house-elf was skulking about the attic. Something odd caught her attention in the parlor above. Furrowing her brow, she stood and carefully made her way up the stairs. When she reached the parlor, she knelt down on the floor and tried to grab whatever was emitting that signature. Her hand hit wood.

It was underneath.

"Hermione?" Cedric called. "Where are you, love?"

"I'm up here," she called back.

His heavy footsteps came up the stairs and he entered the room.

"What did you find?" he asked.

"Something odd," she replied and knocked on the floorboard.

"Hermione you've returned—bloody hell what happened to your eye?"

Hermione turned her attention to Harry and saw the exact same signature on his forehead as the thing under the floorboards. Okay, she really needed to get that thing out.

"Brent happened," said Cedric angrily. "He hit Hermione, damn near knocked her out."

"Seriously?!" Harry shouted. "That prick! I'd break the no-magic rule just to hex him into oblivion! Expulsion would be worth it.”

"Blimey, Hermione!" said Ron. "Can you even see?"

Fred and George apparated in and all of them started clamoring over each other.

"SHUT IT!" Ginny bellowed. "Merlin's balls I could hear you all from the ballroom. Fred, George don't  _ you _ have something for Hermione's eye?"

"Oh right!" said George. "I'll go get it."

Hermione rested her hand on top of Cedric's.  _ There's something under the floorboards. _

_ Should I tell Bill? _ He projected as he helped her to an armchair. Judging by it's cushioning, it was the one by the phone.

_ No, _ she replied.  _ He might give it to Dumbledore. I should take it with me to Castelobruxo. _

He squeezed her hand and gave her the phone.

"Hermione, I—”

"Shh!" Hermione carefully dialed the number for her favorite Chinese place.

"Hello, thank you for calling Lucky Mah Jong, is this order for pick up?"

"Hello, Mrs. Zhang," said Hermione. "This is Hermione Granger, I will be placing a large order for pick up."

"Oh! Hermione!" said Mrs. Zhang. "It's been a long time since I've seen you. Usual?"

"Actually, Mrs. Zhang it's for a party. I know it's short notice…"

"Not a short notice at all!" said Mrs. Zhang. "It’s very slow today. You tip good, then no complaints."

Hermione chuckled and put her hand on the receiver. "Harry, how many people will be at the party?"

"Probably twenty-five," said Harry. “Including everyone who lives here.”

"Okay, Mrs. Zhang we need an order for twenty-five people which means white spicy for those type dishes."

"That  _ is _ a big party. I can put together a buffet plus your favorites in two hours?"

"That'd be perfect, thank you,” said Hermione. "My boyfriend, Cedric, will be by then to pick it up."

"Very good. See him then!"

Hermione hung up. "Dinner is taken care of."

While she was ordering, Cedric filled everyone in on what happened.

"Here, Mione," said George. "This will clear that black eye right up."

"George and I had to come up with quick solutions," said Fred. "We always tested products on ourselves and we couldn't keep going to Mum with mysterious injuries."

"Honestly," Hermione scoffed while Cedric applied the ointment. "If you two wanted to take over the wizard world you could accomplish it with string and a rubber chicken."

"Is that a compliment?" they asked.

"Sure is," said Hermione. "Since I'm not going to be a prefect, it isn't my job to keep you in line."

"As Head Boy, it is mine," said Cedric. "So I want to have a short meeting with you two. Please bring your notes for Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Love the name, by the way, nice alliteration."

"Not even the first day and we are already in trouble," said Fred.

"Must be a new record."

Hermione's vision cleared, the swelling went down, and the pain receded. The ointment worked amazingly.

"You know," she said. "Mama Hana might pay you for this recipe. She's always looking for new things to put in the shop."

"We might take her up on that," said George. "How's your eye?"

"It feels much better," she said, prodding it. "Cedric, how does it look?"

"A little yellow around the edges but the swelling is gone," he said.

“Good.”

Fred and George returned with folders, notebooks, and product samples.

"I wanted to talk to you about your intent to market, sell, and test your products at school," said Cedric. "There's nothing in the rulebooks that state you can't market, sell, or test products. Legally, you could set up shop in this classroom on the fifth floor that's not in use. I can't stop you from pranking and I don't want to stop you from creating, however, as Head Boy, I do want to create some limitations."

"Oh?"

"Like… no testing anything on first years," he said sharply. "I don't care what House they're in or whether or not you think they deserve it. Eleven-year-olds are tiny and vulnerable! Anybody else is fair game, though, I'll let you know if there's someone to particularly avoid. Some people have it rough and might not be able to roll with a prank.”

"Provide incentive for people who are in product testing,” Hermione added. “Money and a discount on all products is a good start. When testing your products, draw up a waver so that people have no legal right to get you in trouble for when the product goes wrong. This includes what the product is and what the goal is. I will happily help you draw up a template for these. When testing make note of a person’s age, gender, and even race. You never know how these things will affect someone."

"So, just to be clear," said Fred.

"You're openly giving us permission to prank," said George.

"As long as it isn't on first years or bullied kids.”

"Correct," said Cedric.

"What do you think of this?" they asked Hermione.

She shrugged and brushed her hair back. "I'm not a prefect, so why should I care? I do agree with Cedric, though. Leave first years out of pranks. They're in a new environment and boarding school sucks."

"Do we have a deal?" Cedric asked.

Fred and George studied him for a long moment.

"Deal," they chorused, then spat into their palms before sticking them out.

Cedric stared at them, then spat into their hands.

"It is sealed," he said.

Hermione threw her head back and laughed. Fred and George laughed as well and wiped their hands on their pants.

“Well, we’d better get this place set up for a party,” said Hermione. “Diagon Alley is crowded as all get out, so it might be nice to lend your mum a hand.”

“Oh, but she’ll want to do this up all  _ special _ for ickle Ronniekins,” said Fred.

“Because ickle Ronniekins is a prefect now.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I seriously don't know if there's a Costco equivalent in England in the 90s because Costco wasn't there until the 2000s. I did look up a superstore, but there's only so much I can research before I have to pull from my own experiences. If this mess up of "British culture" bothers you, then you shouldn't have even made it this far if I'm honest, I mean come on, I claimed baseball existed. Which, as we all know, only exists within the confines of America like cowboy hats and s’moreos. As of sometime in the 2000s you got a Costco in Chingford. I'm going with that, okay? Okay.
> 
> Also, they do go to see Phantom of the Opera, I just don't feel like writing it out because it doesn't build character or advance the plot. I don’t need another tap number chapter.

 

“Oh, Ron made prefect?” said Hermione. “Good for him.”

Honestly, she thought it would’ve been Neville. Maybe even Dean.

“Mum’s buying him a new Keeper’s broom,” said George.

Hermione studied the twins, and thought back on their tone. “You’re jealous!”

“Are not!”

“They’re jealous,” Cedric confirmed. “Oh, I’d better go clean up my mess in the ballroom before picking up the takeaway."

“Would you like help?”

“No, thank you,” he said. “I have a system.”

After he left, Hermione got to her feet and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Ginny and George came forward and held her steady.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Come on, let’s make this place super nice for your mum.”

Cleaning wasn’t their idea of fun, but they didn’t argue with her. Besides, without Mrs. Weasley home, the girls could use magic freely under the supervision of Professor Lupin. Fred and George took the job seriously and decorated the hallway with twinkle lights and went downstairs to decorate the ballroom.

Hermione hummed as she used magic to bake desserts and chop vegetables for trays. They turned out a little clumsy rather than Hana's, Tía Manola's, and Tío Greg’s beautiful arrangements, but they were adequate.

“Ooh, snacks,” said Ron, reaching around her.

Hermione smacked his hand. “These are for the party.”

“And so is this,” said Cedric, entering the kitchen, arms laden with bags. He used his own magic to put it all into bowls. “Mrs. Zhang is a very nice woman.”

“Isn’t she?” said Hermione, inhaling deeply. “Mmm… smells good.”

She plucked a spring roll out of a bowl and munched on it.

“What, you’re allowed to eat and I’m not?” said Ron.

“I’m taste testing,” said Hermione. She thought about giving him a hard time, but decided not to and offered him one of the rolls.

“I’m home!” Mrs. Weasley called. “Everyone clear out of the kitchen so I can… cook.”

“Cedric and I took care of dinner for you,” said Hermione.

“Oh.” Mrs. Weasley put a hand over her heart and teared up. “I… that is so wonderful of you both.”

She went in for a hug which Hermione ducked out of, letting Cedric get the full force.

“It’s no problem,” said Cedric, patting her back.

“I’ll go set this up downstairs.”

“Just so you know, Fred and George decorated.”

“Oh, no…” Mrs. Weasley rushed down to the ballroom. Moments later there was a shriek, not of anger, but of delight.

_ “I explained to them that the Cranky One needed support,” _ Cedric told Hermione in Spanish.  _ “Said they could give him a hard time tomorrow, but tonight was his moment.” _

_ “It’s your moment, too,” _ said Hermione, stepping aside so the platters and bowls could file down the stairs.  _ “You made Head Boy.” _

“Wotcher!”

“Tonks!”

“So, ickle Cedric made Head Boy after all,” said Tonks, stretching her height so she could comfortably drape an arm around his neck. “I am so proud of you!”

“Thanks, Tonks,” said Cedric. “My jukebox is downstairs.”

“Yes!” Tonks ran down to go see it.

Hermione was eager to see how Cedric adapted it, so she followed him downstairs. She was amazed to find that Fred and George did a beautiful job decorating the ballroom with balloons, lights, and streamers and even had banners congratulating Ron and Cedric.

In the corner was the jukebox, the multi-colored sides glowing and a stained glass bird flapped its wings on the front.

“I did research and Madam Rosmerta can even put CDs in it,” said Cedric, popping open one side to show them the mishmash of singles tapes and CD decks. The records were able to be seen through the glass top, and a booklet with the songs the jukebox contained was next to the buttons, which looked like they came from a vending machine.

“I did get it from a vending machine,” said Cedric. “The jukebox was broken when I found it. It’s crazy the stuff people throw away.”

“Exactly!” said Mr. Weasley, entering the ballroom.

“The Ariel complex is strong with you two,” Hermione teased. “What does the jukebox take?”

“Three knuts for one song, a sickle for five songs,” he said. “For you? No charge.”

As he rambled about how he was able to manage that, Hermione browsed the selection and pressed E5. “Cry to Me” by Solomon Burke filled the room and Hermione bopped her head and swayed her hips.

The room soon filled up with guests who milled around and snacked from the buffet table. Ron was telling anyone who would listen about his new Comet and was wearing his prefect badge on his t-shirt, and Cedric explained the jukebox to anyone who would listen before allowing them to pick a song.

There was still someone missing. Sirius. Hopefully it was because he remembered to pick up Cecilia.

Sure enough, Sirius came down the stairs and, behind him, there was Cecilia. She removed her sunglasses and waved at the crowd.

"Hola, everyone!" she said.

"Look at Tonks," Cedric whispered in Hermione's ear gleefully.

She looked and saw Tonks's jaw hanging open. Her hair had gone wild, and seemed to be streaked with every color she wore in the past week.

“Cecilia!”

“Bill!”

“I didn’t know you were coming here,” said Bill, crossing the room to give her a hug.

“Well, we think it’s best to have someone escort Herminia home,” said Cecilia. “We’ll be going by portkey on the first but, until then, I’ll be working at Gringotts here.”

“Sirius, are you barking mad?”

Mad-Eye Moody, freshly out of the hospital, had attended the party.

“What are you thinking bringing a stranger to headquarters?”

“She’s not a stranger, Alistair,” said Sirius. “She’s Hermione’s cousin. Don’t worry, I asked her a question to make sure it was her.”

“He asked me who my pen pal was in school,” said Cecilia. “Bill was. I sent him a cursed hat because I was mad that the exchange program fell through.”

“She apologized and got me this cool earring,” said Bill, pointing to the dragon fang. “We’re friends now.”

Cecilia greeted Hermione and Cedric with hugs and kisses, and the party continued. Hermione stood against the wall with Cedric, and the pair watched Tonks try to follow the other Metamorphagus around.

“I’ve never seen Tonks so enamored,” said Cedric. “Mind you, I’d never seen her enamored with anyone. I guess I assumed she was like Charlie.”

“What do you mean?”

“Charlie isn’t really interested in anyone in any way,” he explained. “He and Tonks kissed once, but it was only to get it out of the way.”

Hermione hummed and glanced up at the ceiling. That thing in the floorboards burned right through. She could see it as if it were right above her rather than two floors up. Once she saw it, she couldn't unsee it.

“What’s wrong?” Cedric asked.

“Can I borrow a screwdriver?”

“Phillips or flathead?”

“Flat.”

He opened the compartment in his forearm and gave her a flathead.

“Ask Cecilia to do the chicken thing for everyone so I can go without notice?”

“As you wish,” he said and spoke up. “What’s your name?”

“Cecilia,” said Cecilia without missing a beat. Her face morphed into a chicken. “Chicken.”

“You’re a metamorphagus, too!” said Tonks. “Can you do this?”

She scrunched her face and gave herself a dog’s nose. Cecilia laughed and did her elephant trunk and ears trick.

With everyone distracted and laughing as the two women tried to outdo each other with crazy faces, Hermione snuck up the stairs and to the parlor. The only one who could probably see her was Moody, but by the time he would make it up two flights of stairs she would already have it.

Whatever it was.

When she reached the parlor, she tucked her eyepatch away into her pocket and opened the door to see Mundungus Fletcher poking around the items. His magical signature wasn’t very strong, which would explain why she couldn’t see it through the normal magic that was weaved into the walls.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” she said.

He jumped and whirled around. “I—er—I was just lookin’.”

“Sure you were,” she said. “You shouldn’t steal from your hosts.”

“I’m not stealing!” he said. “Why don’t you keep your nose out of other people's business?”

“How about I tell Mrs. Weasley that you’re stealing from Sirius?”

Mundungus paled.

“Go downstairs.”

When he left, Hermione slid the door shut and knelt to the ground where the odd object was. She worked up the floorboard with the screwdriver and found a few objects that seemed important. When she touched the locket bearing an  _ S _ , she recoiled with a sharp gasp. It radiated anger. It was definitely something as dark as Tom Riddle's diary. Hermione conjured a black, velvet bag and put the locket in it before picking up what looked like a diary. It had magic on it and, sure enough, when she opened it, everything was in code.

She stashed it away, replaced the floor board, and got to her feet. She could figure out what it was at the safety of Castelobruxo. Emilia, Paula, and Abril wanted to be Unspeakables and could help her take care of something this dangerous without harm to herself.

“Hermione.”

She jumped and whirled around to see Ron. “Hey, Ron, what’s up?”

“Er—nothing,” he said. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

He hadn’t been mean to her in six months, so she waved her hand as a go-ahead. Ron slid the door shut most of the way.

“I’m sorry I’ve been mean to you,” he said. “All the things I’ve said.”

“Well thank you, Ron,” she said. “I accept your apology. I should go back—”

“That isn’t all I want to tell you,” he said. “I know why I’ve been mean to you.”

Hermione fought the urge to say something snarky.

“I’m in love with you, Hermione!” Ron blurted.

Hermione blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“No, I heard that,” she said. “I just find it complete and utter bullshit.”

“What?”

“Ron, you aren’t mean to a person because you like them!” she stressed. “I believe you were jealous and I think you like the idea of me, but you don’t actually  _ love _ me. Besides, what did you expect? That I would return your feelings? Leave Cedric for  _ you _ ? You’re only telling me this because I’m going to leave in  _ three _ days!”

Hermione pushed him away and slid the door open with a bang. She stomped to her room and slammed the door shut so hard it rattled the frame. In her anger, she didn’t notice that Cedric was standing just outside the parlor.

Cedric stood there with his eyes wide then snapped his gaze to Ron.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“She just went crazy,” he said, guilt flooding his stomach that the older boy just might have overheard the entire thing.

Guests were already leaving out the front door and Cedric refused to make a scene.

He knew the cycle. Ron’s anger that his siblings wouldn’t take his side in something like this, the insecurity that they liked Hermione more than him, which ignited his temper, which caused him to lash out, which caused his family to get on his case, and his family didn’t know  _ when _ to take his side anymore.

Ron was another Percy waiting to happen.

Still, Cedric couldn’t help but be furious that Ron would try something like that. That he was secretly hoping Hermione would return the sentiment even though it made him feel guilty.

It would take extreme willpower to not make Ron’s prefect life hell. The bloke needed a chance to prove himself, and being prefect gave him something above Fred and George.

Cedric ran his fingers through his hair.

“You just like the idea of Hermione, Ron,” he said. “You have to accept everything about a person, not just what you think are the good parts.”

Ron huffed and stormed up to his room. It wouldn’t take long for him to move on. At least… Cedric hoped it wouldn’t. It was amazing how easy it was for a person to convince themselves someone is right for them.

Cedric went downstairs to the ballroom and stopped the music on the jukebox before shrinking it down and placing it in a big box lined with a cushioning charm, then put that box in his backpack. Making sure everything was clean and away, he went up to the kitchen.

“I thought I heard doors slam,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” said Cedric, shrugging. “Hermione was feeling overcrowded from the party. I think she went to lie down.”

“Oh, poor dear,” said Mrs. Weasley. “How about I make her a cup of tea?”

“No tea will be necessary,” said Hermione, entering the kitchen. “I’m going home. I miss my parents and I want to spend my last few days in England with them. Cecilia? Did you bring your motorcycle?”

“Yes.”

“Are you up to seeing London at night?”

“Sure.”

Hermione kissed Cedric on the cheek and gave Harry and Ginny hugs.

“I’ll see you off on the first,” she said to them. “Bye Sirius, thank you for letting me stay.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hermione and Cecilia left.

“Hermione seems upset about something,” said Harry.

“Probably just having to leave everyone behind,” said Professor Lupin.

“Not to mention her childhood bully sucker-punched her just this afternoon,” said Cedric, knowing that it absolutely was not that. “Again.”

“She seems to get hit in the face a lot,” Harry commented.

“Hopefully that will change once she’s at Castelobruxo,” said Cedric. “I hate seeing her get hurt.”

“Are you going to her house then?”

“Not tonight,” he said. “I think she needs some time just with her family. I’ll go over tomorrow after I get the stuff for the prefect bags.”

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to leave, Cedric,” said Mrs. Weasley. “There are dangerous wizards about.”

Cedric saw an underlying worry. One that she was trying to suppress due to her knowing that her prejudices against werewolves are wrong. She was afraid he would be approached by followers of Greyback and swayed to join their side. These past weeks he’d seen her and even Mr. Weasley chastise themselves for being nervous around him.

“I know it’s important to have an alibi,” he said. “Perhaps someone should go with me until I go to Hermione’s.”

“Brilliant idea,” she said. “Tonks will go with you.”

“I can’t,” said Tonks. “I’ve got to work.”

“Bill?”

“I have work, Mum.”

“Remus?”

“I need to prepare for classes,” he said. “And make sure Ron and Harry completed their summer homework properly.”

“Sirius, then.”

“I’ll take Fred and George with me,” said Cedric.

“Us?” they chorused.

Mrs. Weasley stammered a protest as she imagined London burning to the ground with her two troublemakers storming it.

“The three of us will be fine,” said Cedric. “I doubt a Death Eater could navigate a super store without being overwhelmed, and we’ll apparate right back here.”

“What if you’re seen?”

“Who would believe them?” Cedric reasoned. “Seeing three teenage boys disappear in thin air? They’ll go straight to the loony bin.”

“Oh, let them,” said Mr. Weasley. “It will be a good experience.”

“It’s settled,” said Cedric, slapping his hand on the table. “We leave at ten.”

At ten the next morning, Mrs. Weasley was giving George and Fred a pre-lecture on what she was going to do if they pulled a stunt like Ron did three years ago. Cedric looked at his watch and sighed.

"Mrs. Weasley, they're more mature than you're giving them credit for," he said. "We should really go before the foot traffic gets too bad. We're in between work force and tourists right now."

"Oh, very well," she said. "But one incident and you will never leave this house again!"

Cedric steered the pair out and walked with them to the nearest underground.

"Honestly, it's like she doesn't trust us," said Fred.

"You two don't have the best track record," said Cedric, "but at least you never stole your dad's car for a joy ride. In terms of keeping under the radar, you have a better track record than your brothers. Sure, you pull pranks, but your sister killed a Basilisk, your youngest brother lied to Voldemort's face to protect the Philosopher's Stone, and three months later stole the car and crashed it into the Whomping Willow. Bill and Charlie broke Cursed Vaults left and right with someone they only refer to as Boss. It was crazy. Cursed ice, sleepwalking curse, boggarts, dementors, dragons in a portrait, statue curse… From the way things look, when it comes to hell-raising or even just chaotic good, the two of you are barely above Percy."

Their jaws dropped.

"We need to up our game," said Fred.

"If a spy is being placed in Hogwarts, then that just might be what's needed," said Cedric, slinging his arms around their shoulders. "But first, I need to prepare prefect bags. If things are getting bad, then we need to focus on emotional support for the younger years. Pranks to knock people in power down a peg can only go so far."

"I guess that's true," said George.

Cedric bought them day passes for the underground. "Have you ridden this before?"

"Yeah," said George. "Remember when Hermione threw that party for Harry? She took us to the movies."

"Poor thing tried so hard," said Fred.

"Of course she did," said Cedric. "She never had people over before except for me and we've been friends for years. Did you at least have fun?"

Fred nodded. "Well, yeah. We had loads of fun."

They boarded the train and took open seats side-by-side-by-side. Cedric explained to them what he was planning on filling the bags with and why.

"This place has pretty good prices for bulk items," he said. "If you two want to snag some snacks while we're there, I don't mind. I'll hide them in my bag so your mum won't take them."

"Thanks," said George. "I'm sorry she threw away your order forms the other day."

"She shouldn't be throwing away your order forms, either," Cedric scoffed. "Just because you're not on a career path she agrees with doesn't mean you won't be successful."

They took the underground until Walthamstow Underground where they had to exit and take a bus to Cooks ferry roundabout. All in all, it was about an hour to get there. The three boys chatted lightly, which made the time go by faster. Fred and George were fascinated as the city went by. They had been living in the area, but they never really got to see any of it.

"Once we graduate," said Fred, "the four of us should hit the town and really check things out. Not just see it from the street."

"Four of us?" Cedric asked.

"Yeah, you, me, George, and Lee," said Fred.

If this were a cartoon, a red exclamation point would have appeared over George's head at the sound of Lee's name. Excitement with a bit of panic. Cedric quickly backed out and vowed to work harder on building barriers so he wasn't accidentally reading minds anymore. Their business wasn't his business and he shouldn't make it his business.

"Sounds like fun," said Cedric. "Might be a good time before I leave for Japan."

"How does Hermione feel about that?" George asked.

"She's for it." Cedric ran his thumb along the grooves of his fingers. "Helped me read through the contract and stuff. I don't really want to be far away from her, but we don't really have a choice in the matter. At least, until she graduates. I'm going to miss her terribly, but I don't know if she'll miss me as much."

"Don't be daft, of course she will," said George.

"We saw the goo-goo eyes she was sending you," Fred chimed. "At the World Cup, she barely looked at the game. Every time we looked over, she was watching your reaction. And this past week, we thought she was going to melt into a puddle every time you kissed her cheek. She's as mad about you as you are about her."

Cedric knew they were telling the truth, and that made him feel a bit better.

Finally, their stop came and Cedric led the way to Costco. He had been doing a little magic of his own since he saw the psychic paper on an episode of Dr. Who at Hermione's. You couldn't enter Costco's without a membership, and if this didn't work, then he would just have to shell out for a single month membership.

It had to work.

"Bloody hell," the twins breathed upon seeing the concrete monstrosity.

As they approached the doors, Cedric opened his wallet so the psychic paper was out and held it up to the worker. The woman barely glanced at it before waving them along. Cedric smiled and tucked his wallet away before grabbing a large cart.

"Look at all those tellies," said Fred, lingering over to one the size of their living room blasting a game of cricket.

"Oi." Cedric whistled to get the twins' attention. "Come on. Haven't got all day."

"Right." They jogged to catch up to him, but still craned their heads around like a Muggle-born at Diagon Alley to take it all in.

They helped him collect the items for the prefect kits before they could finally browse the more interesting items and stock up on snacks.

"Hey, check it, they've got clothes here," said Fred, stopping to pick up a shirt. "Ced, can we pay you back?"

They've never been allowed to pick out new clothes before. Cedric agreed and parked the trolley so they could pick out a few shirts and pants that would fit them. He tossed in a few items for himself while they were at it.

"This place is brilliant," said George. "Everything you need in one place."

"We oughta find one of these places when we buy our flat," Fred agreed. "Get everything we need in one place."

"Not sure if they'll deliver furniture to Diagon Alley," said Cedric, taking a seat on one of the couches. "But I think magic will take care of the rest."

"Mummy!" A small child called. "That man only has one arm!"

"I didn't kill Harrison Ford's wife!" Cedric shouted.

George and Fred laughed all the way up to the registers. They didn't understand the reference, but they found the shocked look on the mother's face hilarious.

Cedric had to show his card again at the register and even though the end total was still pricey, he had luckily brought enough cash along to pay for it.

"We'll help you put the bags together, mate," said Fred.

"Thanks, but no thanks," said Cedric. "Hermione said she helped me and I was planning on spending the last few days at the Grangers' house. It is still early yet, though, want to go do something? How about a little sight-seeing? Tour your own capital."

"Don't we need to get all this home?" George asked, gesturing to their cart full of items.

"Nah, it'll fit in my backpack."

The worker checking their receipt gave them a bemused look before sending them along. Outside, in the heat of the day, most people were focused on getting out to their cars. Cedric unzipped his pack and began stuffing the items away while Fred and George kept a lookout. Once the final item—a giant container of cheese balls—was stowed away, they put the cart back and hurried along. It then occurred to Cedric that he should have checked for video cameras.

No matter… anyone who saw it would think it was a fake anyway and anyone who claimed it was real would be written off as banana balls.

"Alright, mates," he said. "I don't have a lot of money left, but let's say we sneak onto a tour bus and do a full-on montage of London's landmarks."

"Works for us," they replied.


	14. Fifth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I turned 23 yesterday. Not a milestone, but it is one more day I've been alive.  
> I'm in a better situation, but my job is cutting into my writing time, so the rest of this story probably won't be as high of a standard as the beginning. We'll see.

September 1st, Hermione drove Cedric to King's Cross on motorcycle. She was going to leave with Cecilia at Platform 9 and 3/4 and go home from there. Cedric was going to miss her terribly. The thought of being at Hogwarts without her there was nearly unbearable, but he agreed with her reasons. Besides, they had their mirrors and that notebook she was planning on giving him for his birthday.

On the platform, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she said, tears pricking at her eyes.

“It’s just until Christmas,” he said, mostly to himself, and pressed his forehead to hers. “I’ll be counting the days.”

“I will, too.” She kissed him again, then hugged him.

He loved their hugs more than anything. Hermione would just wrap him up tight without an ounce of selfishness, making him feel wanted.

“Hey, Cedric,” said Tabatha St. Vincent. “I thought we might go over the plan for the prefects before the train takes off. Hey, Hermione.”

“Hey, Tabatha,” said Hermione.

Tabatha pushed her glasses up her prominent nose, nodded, and boarded the train with her trunk dragging behind her.

Hermione turned Cedric’s wrist to look at his watch.

“I have a little bit of time,” she said. “I’ll just make sure I’m off the train before it leaves.”

Cedric sighed lightly and locked his fingers with Hermione’s. He wanted to get every last moment he could with her before she left. Even so, he followed Tabatha on board and brought out his prefect bags. He double-checked to make sure all the walkie-talkies were in place along with maps, sign-up sheets, and everything else.

“Oh,” said Hermione. “I’ve nearly forgotten.”

She reached into her purse and brought out an old bit of parchment. She slipped it into his hand and when their skin touched she thought,  _ To activate it, simply say, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.’ To deactivate it say, “Mischief Managed.” _

He nodded and put the map in his backpack. Hermione was looking down the train and searching the magical signatures.

“I see Luna and Neville,” she said. “I’m going to go say a quick goodbye. I’ve still got time.”

“Alright,” he said.

Soon, the compartment was filling up with prefects while Cedric and Tabatha discussed what they were going to go over. Hermione soon returned and gave Padma and Hannah (both prefects) big hugs.

“Congratulations on making Prefect, Sally-Anne,” said Hermione, giving the Gryffindor a firm pat on the shoulder. “I hope you do well.”

"Didn't make prefect, Granger?" said Pansy snidely. "I'm shocked."

She actually was shocked, she was just trying to hide it. Cedric was surprised Pansy was allowed the position. He would have thought it would be Daphne. Guess nobody could override Snape's terrible decisions.

"I'm not," said Hermione. "I don't qualify."

Cedric huffed lightly and shook his head. The whistle screeched and the engine roared to life.

"Alright," he said. "The train is about to leave, so anyone who is not a prefect, please go to your own compartment."

“It’s really such a pity you’re returning,” said Pansy to Hermione. “Why don’t you do everyone a favor and go back where you came from?”

“Okay,” Hermione went to Cedric and kissed him then went to the door. “Wait! Cedric, there’s something very important I have to tell you!”

“What is it?” he asked.

She made a heart with her hands and smiled. “I love you, bye. Bye everyone, I’ll miss you all. Except you Pansy, I can’t bloody stand you.”

She jumped off the train just as it began to move, ran to meet Cecilia, and the two disappeared in the smoke.

Heaving a sigh, Cedric made sure his hair was secure in its tail and stood up.

"Good morning, everyone," he said. "To all our old prefects, welcome back, and to our new prefects, welcome to responsibility. Tabatha and I agreed that we will be dealing with things differently this year than in past years."

Tabatha helped him pass out the new packets of information he spent last night putting together.

"In here," she said, "you will find a sign-up sheet for the hours you are willing to patrol. Mind you it isn't set but it gives us something to work with. There is also a contract that states that you promise to uphold prefect duties, won't abuse your power, yadda, yadda, yadda and if you don't follow the rules you could lose your status as prefect. Cedric?"

He nodded at her. "In the past, the job of a prefect was to enforce school rules and patrol hallways during study hall and after curfew. Well, this year we're going to change all of that. We will be holding meetings twice a month in classroom 103A to discuss patrol duties, rule breaking, and problem students. See, I believe our job as prefects should be as someone the younger years can rely on; a friend, not law enforcement. The teachers are sometimes too busy and there's no official guidance counselor for the school so we should be a trusted person to talk to if there's trouble or concerns."

Shaylyn Ramsey raised her hand. For the first day back, she was wearing an al-amira in Slytherin green with a silver trim.

"What should we do if people ask about Voldemort?" she asked, rolling her eyes at the yelps.

Cedric had foreseen this question and prepared for it.

"Tell them that as long as they are at Hogwarts they won't have to worry about outside threats," he said. "I can't say the same for inside threats, but we don't want to create a panic, right? Right. Now, I'd like to make it known that as prefects you will need to start working together as a group."

"Yes," said Tabatha. "I know there are house rivalries, but while you're on duty you will treat each other with dignity and respect."

She looked at Pansy when she said this.

"What's this list on the pamphlet?" Ernie Macmillan asked.

"Oh, that's a list for prefect backpacks," said Cedric. "I pack my backpack with things I might need in case of an emergency. The list just has suggestions of what anybody might need until they can get to Madam Pomfrey. Never hurts to be prepared and I've found that it is rather nifty and people typically know to come to me for those sorts of things. Hermione and I prepared totes last night to get you started and I’d be happy to order more items for you.”

He held up one of the tote bags that contained the items on the list.

"We don't  _ really _ have to carry around tampons, do we?" Seventh Year Ravenclaw, Matthew Whittle asked.

"Why would it be a problem?" Tabatha asked. "Nobody is going to think  _ you're _ using them."

"Exactly," said Cedric.

"But—I mean—it's—kinda gross," he stammered and looked around for backup. "Right?"

"Matthew." Cedric dug into his bag, removed a tampon and chucked it at him, hitting him square in the forehead. "It’s not a bomb."

Matthew shrieked and pushed it away, the girls in the compartment laughed and scoffed at the overreaction.

"Anyway," Cedric continued picking up the totes. "I will now be passing out your prefect bags and walkie-talkies. Please do not lose them. Gryffindors, yours are red and your code names are as follows, Sally-Anne, you're Red One; Ron, Red Two; Melina Lynwood and Yuuto Kawaguchi are Red Three and Red Four; Angelina Johnson and Humbert Keegan are Red Five and Red Six." He gave similar titles to the rest of the prefects except he labelled himself and Tabatha as Head Boy and Head Girl rather than Yellow Six and Green Five. "I would also keep your walkie-talkies and school maps on you at all times; in the pamphlet you will find lingo I put together, so I recommend you memorize it or, at least, keep it with you. Any questions or comments on this?"

"All right," said Tabatha when no one responded, "if you will open up your schedules you will see that we already planned out the patrols for the first week and then we'll change them as needed. If you do not put in your patrol duty requests then they will be chosen for you. It's all first come first serve."

"One last thing before we dismiss you," said Cedric. "You know how everyone had fun at the ball last year? Er—almost everyone? Maybe we should organize a spring dance, yeah? Have one for the younger years and one for the older years that way everyone gets a chance to have a night of fun. I’m also thinking a spirit week before exams with little challenges each day and a prize for the person in each year who shows the most spirit. Boost morale, y’know? I heard that the Celestial Ball a few years back was amazing."

"And why would we want to do that?" Linton Seward of Slytherin asked.

"Because it'd be fun? Not everything needs a reason set deep in tradition. It could be a new tradition!”

"If we organize it between the twenty-six of us, I think it's doable," Hannah mused. "Perhaps put two or four in charge and then divvy up the work."

"At least think about it," said Cedric. "We'll put it to a vote next meeting on the fifteenth. Anything else, Tabatha?"

"Tomorrow, there will be a tour of the school. I'll take Group One, Cedric Group Two, and Saorise Group Three. We’ll leave in fifteen minute increments to avoid clashing.”

“Thank you,” said Cedric. “Alright. Dismissed.”

He slid his backpack over his shoulders.

"Want to sit with me, Ced?" Tabatha asked.

"Sure," he said. "I just want to see Luna real quick and give her a souvenir."

"Ooh, anything for me?" she asked.

"Of course," he said and gave her a snow globe. "I had to get something to show you how much fun I had without you."

Tabatha laughed.

"I'll catch up with you in a bit," she said.

Cedric nodded and made his way through the train to find Luna. He eventually found her in a compartment with Neville, Ginny, and Harry. They were coated with ink that spewed from a large succulent that Neville was cradling.

"Blimey," said Ron. "What happened to you?”

Cedric drew his wand and cleaned the ink.

“Is that a new wand, Cedric?” Luna asked. “It’s terribly clever looking.”

“I got it in Kilokilo,” said Cedric.

“Ah, old one burned up?” she said. “We probably could’ve saved it with blibbering humdinger mucus.”

“No, I don’t think there’s time for mucus when your arm’s split open,” said Cedric. “Besides, this wand comes in red. Perfect for keeping the nargles at bay. I’ve heard they like to chew on handles and loosen wand grip.”

“You’re absolutely right!” said Luna, her eyes growing impossibly wider.  _ So, Hermione left? _

_ She did. It's all right, it's in her best interest. _

_ Doesn't make it any less difficult. _

"Your new style makes you look like a rock star," she said out loud. "I think Stubby Boardman would be jealous."

Cedric chuckled. "I brought a souvenir for my favorite cousin." He reached into his side pocket and brought out a jar containing a banana slug.

Luna shrieked with delight and accepted the jar.

"He's so cute," she said. "I'm going to call him Leonard."

"A perfectly sensible name for a banana slug," he replied. "See you 'round."

As he searched the train for Tabatha, his good mood slipped away. Nearly everyone he made eye contact with looked at him with suspicion and fear. Like he would lash out at them at any second. He finally found his friend in a compartment with Redmund, Lisha, and Chevonne. The two Hufflepuff girls jumped up and gave him giant hugs.

"Oh, you're all right," said Lisha. "We were so worried about you."

"Actually, I'm all left," he said, wiggling his prosthetic fingers.

"Blimey," said Redmund. "Look at that. Can I see?"

Cedric sat down and held out his arm. His friends studied it in fascination and asked him questions about it and then his summer. Of course, he told them all about Hawaii and D.R.

“Where’s Hermione?” Lisha asked.

“She left,” said Tabatha. “But can you blame her? She wasn’t even on the train for half an hour before Parkinson jumped into bullying her.”

“That’s not the reason why she left though,” said Cedric. How many people were going to bring this up? “She left because Hogwarts is a death trap. I support her 100%.”

“I like what you did with your hair,” said Chevonne, knowing he wanted to change the subject and that was the first thing she could think of.

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous,” said Lisha.

“Thanks, Renata did it,” he said. “I thought I’d try something different.”

“It totally works,” said Redmund.

Feeling more at ease, Cedric let Belle out of her carrier and let her rest in his lap. After the trolley lady came by, Rowena stuck her head in.

“Hey, Cedric,” she said. “I heard Pansy Parkinson pushed Hermione off the train after calling her a dyke, is that true?”

“First off, no,” said Cedric. “No, it’s not. Hermione wouldn’t use that word and Pansy isn’t at the point where she’d push someone off a moving train. No, Hermione is going to Castelobruxo.”

“Huh, okay.”

Cedric took his walkie-talkie off his belt and pressed the button.

“This is Head Boy. Would all prefects  _ please _ stop saying Pansy pushed Hermione off the train?” he said. “Thank you.”

“Who spread the rumor?” Tabatha asked.

“Hufflepuffs,” he said. “Who else?”

“We are the worst when it comes to the rumor mill,” Lisha agreed.

Cedric made sure his walkie-talkie wasn’t on. That would have been awkward.

In the last hour, he got to his feet.

“I’m going to go tell the first years where to go when we stop,” he said, remembering his own uncertainty when he first started Hogwarts.

“I’ll go with you,” said Tabatha. She was lucky that her older brother told her where to go their first year, but she knew it could all be confusing and scary as well.

Cedric mustered his easy-going grin and went to the first compartment full of first-years. He made sure to bring Belle with him since people loved cats and animals generally helped people relax.

“Hi, I’m Cedric, Head Boy,” he said in his cheeriest, friendliest voice possible. “I just want to let you know we’ll be at Hogsmeade station within the hour and now might be a good time to put on your robes. When we arrive at the station, you will be going left where you’ll be escorted to the boats.”

“Alright, thanks,” said a girl.

“No problem. If you have any questions feel free to ask me, Tabatha here, or any prefect.”

“Wow you’re good at that,” said Tabatha. “How do you do that?”

“Practice,” said Cedric. “Lots of practice.”

In the last car, they found a boy in a wheelchair wearing a patka, talking with a girl who had a large dog sitting at her feet, a girl who was solving a Rubik’s cube as fast as she could scramble it just to keep her hands busy, and Bailey, the boy who stayed home for Christmas Cedric’s fifth year.

“Hello, everyone,” said Cedric. “Is it alright if I have a seat?”

“Sure,” said the Sikh boy.

Cedric sat down. “My name is Cedric, I am this year’s Head Boy, and I’d like to go ahead and welcome you to Hogwarts. We’ll be there in less than an hour, so I’m making sure all the first years know where to go once we reach Hogsmeade station. Hello, Bailey, how are you?”

“You remember my name?” Bailey asked.

“Of course,” said Cedric, turning his attention to the others. “And what are your names?”

"I'm Harjot," said the boy he first spoke to.

“Gracie Yi,” said the blind girl. “And this is Artemis.”

Artemis the Dog wagged her tail once and stared at Belle.

“Nice to meet you three,” said Cedric and turned to Rubik Cube girl. “And you?”

She glanced up and then back down at her cube.

“I don’t think she talks,” said Bailey.

_ “You sign?” _ Cedric asked.

She perked up and nodded eagerly, her fingers began flying as she spoke and Cedric was thankful that he could read minds.

“Nice to meet you Winnifred,” said Cedric. “So, you’re autistic? So’s my girlfriend!”

Winnifred looked at Tabatha.

“Oh, no, that’s Tabatha, she’s Head Girl, my girlfriend goes to Castelobruxo,” he said.

“Is that a metal arm?” Harjot asked.

“Yeah, it is,” said Cedric.

“Cool!”

“Can I touch it?” Gracie asked.

“Sure,” said Cedric, taking her hand in his. Geez, was he ever that tiny?

“Wicked,” Gracie whispered.

“So, do you guys have any questions about Hogwarts?” Cedric asked.

“Where do we go when we get there?” Gracie asked.

“You will be going left and down to the docks…” he furrowed his brow. “Hang on… I don’t think it’s wheelchair or dog accessible. I think I remember hearing that Murphy McNully had to hitch a ride in the carriages.”

_ “I don’t have good balance,” _ Winnifred signed.

“Alright,” said Cedric. “Then you’ll ride in the carriages with me and I’ll bring you to where you need to go.”

“Is Hogwarts wheelchair accessible?” Harjot asked.

“Yep, we’ve got ramps and several lifts,” said Cedric. “Murphy got around all right and so did Hermione when she needed a chair. There will also be a tour of the school tomorrow, Winnifred, Gracie, I can walk with you to where your classes will be so you don’t get lost while you memorize pathways. I'm not certain we have signs in braille."

“Is Hogwarts big?” Gracie asked.

“It can feel that way in the beginning,” said Cedric. “But then you wonder how you ever got lost to begin with.”

When the train stopped, Cedric got to his feet and led the three first years off the train.

“Follow me kids,” he said and led them towards the carriages.

“First years! First years over here!” A woman with a haircut more severe than Madam Hooch’s shouted.

That’s odd, where was Hagrid? Perhaps Dumbledore sent him on a mission. Seems like something he’d do.

_ “First years are supposed to go that way,” _ said Winnifred.

“I know,” said Cedric. “But that way is a bit difficult to walk down. We’re going this way.”

_ “First years go that way.” _

“It’s okay, Winnifred, I’m Head Boy and I say you three are coming this way.”

_ “Okay.” _

Cedric brought them to the line of carriages. Since it was a lovely night, the carriages were open topped. The older boy conjured a ramp so Harjot could get into the carriage first and the rest followed. As soon as Cedric closed the door, the Thestral trotted along towards Hogwarts.

Winnifred touched Cedric’s hair wanting to know if it was as soft as it looked. Belle meowed and crawled into the girl’s lap. Cedric realized that he never put his cat away and resolved to stick her in his backpack for the duration of dinner. She’d be okay.

“What’s the best House, Cedric?” Harjot asked.

“Well, I don’t like to think that one House is better than the other,” he said. “My mum always said it’s how you value magic. Do you want to use it as a learning tool, keep it close, use it to protect yourself, or share it with everyone?”

“I heard everyone thinks Slytherins are evil,” said Gracie.

“Now that’s not true,” said Cedric. “Just because a few bad people were in that house? There were bad wizards who were in Hufflepuff. People who tried to burn the world thinking that was going to make it fair. You know what makes people pay attention to the Slytherins? Something someone said a millenia ago back when it was socially acceptable to treat anybody different, anybody like us, like crap. So just keep that mind, no matter what House you’re in, okay? You are not the Founder, all you can do is be the best witch or wizard you can be. Promise me that, okay?”

The three first years agreed and even Bailey found himself nodding.

The carriage rounded the corner and Hogwarts came into view.

“Whoa…” Harjot and Winnifred sighed.

“I wish I could see it,” said Gracie.

“May I try something?” Cedric asked.

“Er… sure,” said Gracie.

“Hold out your hand.”

He touched it lightly and projected the image of Hogwarts, all lit up with the moon soaring high.

“Oh…” Gracie whispered. “It’s beautiful. How did you do that?”

“I actually learned it from a blind witch this summer. I’ll order a copy of her book for you. Maybe ask for some tips as well.”

“That’d be wonderful!”

When they finally reached the castle, Cedric led the little group up the new ramp and into the castle.

“Mr. Diggory!” Professor McGonagall ran over. “What are those first years doing away from the group?”

“Artemis gets seasick,” said Cedric, gesturing to the dog.

The eleven-year-olds laughed.

“Oh, I see,” said Professor McGonagall. “Fifteen points to Hufflepuff for taking charge. Come with me children.”

“I’ll see you guys inside, now when you’re sorted just relax. Nothing to it.”

He went inside the Great Hall and sat on the end of Hufflepuff so he could greet the first years as they came to take their seats.

“Hey, Ced,” said Red. “Where’d you disappear to?”

“Oh, just helping out some first years,” he said and looked up at the Head table confirming that Hagrid was gone.

Professor Lupin was sitting rigidly in his seat and staring nervously at a woman who took pink as the new black way too seriously. She wore pink robes, a pink cardigan, and a pink hat with a crumpled pink bow. Something about her was off-putting, but it was put out of Cedric’s mind when the Great Hall doors opened and Professor McGonagall led in the hundred first-years.

“Were we ever that small?” Cedric asked.

“What are you talking about?” Redmund asked. “I’m still that small.”

Cedric snickered and ushered Belle into his backpack before he got in trouble.

Winnifred waved eagerly at him and he waved back.

“Seems you’re already popular with the new girls,” Lisha teased.

"He was popular the moment he walked into this school," said Chevonne.

Cedric turned to the Gryffindor table to see some boy sitting in Hermione’s favorite spot and it finally hit him that he really wasn’t going to get to see Hermione until Christmas. With a frown, he turned his attention back to the front.

“Hagrid isn’t here,” he commented.

“I wonder where he is,” said Lisha. “He was actually turning into a really good teacher, you know.”

Cedric knew where he was. It was one of the things that the Order was afraid of him finding out. Hagrid was trying to get the giants on the side of the Order. Cedric didn’t know much about giants but if the stereotypes were correct then it would be difficult. If the giants were more than likely to join the side of the people who could promise them the most violence then the Order was screwed. Either way they were unhappy with their situation despite the Death Eaters being part of the government that was oppressing them.

Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on the stool. The rip near its brim opened and it burst into song.

_ In times of old when I was new _

_ And Hogwarts barely started _

_ The founders of our noble school _

_ Thought never to be parted: _

_ United by a common goal, _

_ They had the selfsame yearning, _

_ To make the world’s best magic school _

_ And pass along their learning _

_ “Together we will build and teach!” _

_ The four good friends decided _

_ And never did they dream that they _

_ Might someday be divided, _

_ For were there such friends anywhere _

_ As Slytherin and Gryffindor? _

_ Unless it was the second pair _

_ Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw? _

_ So how could it have gone so wrong… _

It was the longest version of the Sorting Hat song Cedric had ever heard. The shortest version was his second year. It was only two verses and he was pretty sure the hat had somehow gotten drunk before coming out.

“The hat really wants us to unite, doesn’t it?” Redmund whispered.

“The hardest minds to change will be Gryffindor and Slytherin,” said Cedric. “Friar Simon, has the hat ever given warnings before?”

“He has indeed,” said the Fat Friar. “But I will tell you more after the sorting.”

The hall quieted but they were itching to talk more. Cedric made sure to clap loudly for each kid no matter where they were put. Harjot was placed in Hufflepuff and immediately sat by Cedric, Winnifred was placed in Ravenclaw where Luna made room for her, and Gracie Yi was placed in Slytherin where she sat beside Tabatha.

Dumbledore kept his speech short considering how long the sorting was. Cedric imagined that with the rising threat of war, in a decade or so there would be another small class like the fifth years. Assuming Hogwarts was still open to all students by that time. He didn’t know what was going to happen to be honest.

As he helped himself to some roast beef, he looked up at the Fat Friar.

“So, what about previous warnings?”

“The Sorting Hat is connected with the spirit of Hogwarts,” he explained, “I assume you know that magical objects can gain sentience over time, correct?”

Cedric nodded.

“Well, whenever times of danger are detected, the Sorting Hat acts as a sort of pre-warning. Telling everyone to brace and prepare themselves.”

“Are we in danger here?” Harjot asked.

“Well, every place has their dangers,” said Cedric truthfully. “My friend, Viktor, said that they learn very dangerous spells and potions at Durmstrang where you could get injured, and my girlfriend and her cousins go to Castelobruxo where they have dangerous animals and plants that they learn to handle. We go to school so we can be prepared for the real world and you’ll get that education here. We have protections in place so you’re safe here. Understand?”

Harjot nodded.

“Well said, my son,” said the Fat Friar.

Cedric flinched slightly but knew the ghost didn’t mean it like that. In search of something different, he decided to see if his new powers of legilimency could extend to ghosts. Concentrating hard on the texture of his bread roll, he made eye contact with the Fat Friar and projected the sensation and flavor of the food.

The ghost raised his eyebrows and held a hand to his mouth in surprise, as if he expected to take another bite of bread.

“Excuse me, children,” he said and left the table to talk with the Grey Lady.

“Is he okay?” Red asked.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” said Cedric as he spooned sweet peas onto his plate.

The first-years were keen on discussing their parentage and Cedric half-listened between them and the conversations of his friends. His fingers were itching to call Hermione if only to see her face in the Great Hall.

After dessert, when everyone was full and sleepy, Dumbledore gave another speech with the usual topics.

“And tomorrow,” he said, “all our first years will be given a grand tour of Hogwarts led by our Head Boy, Cedric Diggory. A new tradition that was begun four years ago by a former student and has led to a large decrease in tardies. We used to have a self-defense seminar, but the student who led that is no longer with us, I am sorry to say. Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the—”

He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge.

As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, “Hem, hem,” and it  became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Not even Lockhart and he was the interrupting champion. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts. Cedric didn’t like the looks of this woman, all head-to-toe in pink like a child at a tea party.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Professor Umbridge simpered, “for those kind words of welcome.” Her voice was high-pitched, breathy, and little-girlish, and again, Cedric felt a powerful rush of dislike that he could not explain to himself. All he knew was that he loathed everything about her, from her stupid voice to her fluffy pink cardigan.

She gave another little throat-clearing cough (“ Hem, hem”) and continued: “Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!” She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. “And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!”

Everyone stared back blankly, not enjoying how she was speaking to them as if they were five. She was too far away for Cedric to get a good look into her eyes so he had no idea what her aim was here, but as she continued on about their education, Cedric felt a pit open up in his stomach and he remembered something Hermione had said both about the trial and what Madam Bones told her. Umbridge was here as a spy. She didn’t give one twig about their education, she was just here as a watchdog for Fudge.

Well, shit. He comforted himself with the fact that since she was neither Headmistress nor Deputy Headmistress nor on the Board of Education, there was very little she could do except make reports to Fudge.

Wait, was Umbridge still talking? Something about progress for the sake of progress being bad and blah, blah, blah… Bored, despite the sick feeling in his stomach, Cedric opened his backpack and let Belle out.

The cat climbed onto the table and wandered amongst the first years, relishing in the attention that was drawn away from the toad woman.

“You have just the prettiest cat, Cedric,” said Red.

“Yeah. How’s Stormageddon: Dark Lord of All by the way?”

“Living up to his name,” Red replied with a grin. “Mum spoils him to pieces and he expects the same treatment at school.”

When Umbridge finally finished the dullest speech since Professor Binns still walked the halls, Dumbledore quickly finished his speech and bid them goodnight.

“Hufflepuffs follow me!” said Cedric. “Once again, my name is Cedric and I’d like to welcome you guys to your home away from home for the next seven years. If you ever have any trouble or just want a talk you can always come to me. This way.”

The castle had changed. Rather than a staircase to the basement, there was a long, gentle slope with a railing. Cedric led the kids to the barrels, showed them the password and the middle and bottom barrel lids opened much like a door so they could go right through rather than crawl. He wondered if it changed as soon as Harjot crossed the wards and wondered how it knew.

“Come on,” he said, waving them along. “Boys to the right, girls to the left. Bathrooms are at the end of the hall, showers are there, too. Don’t forget, in the morning there is a tour of the school that will be led by the prefects.”

He turned to the dorms where he was immediately blocked by Aiden and Daven.

“Come on, guys,” he said. “We’re all tired here.”

“No,” said Aiden. “We’re not sharing our dorm with a werewolf.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So, I think it's kinda dumb that witch and wizard are gendered, especially since wizard was a word for a philosopher and witch was gender-neutral. So whether they are male or female, I will be referring to magical folk elsewhere in the world as witch. I'm also not going to italicize when they're speaking in Spanish for these chapters because I feel that would be overdoing it and distracting.

They might as well have punched him in the gut. Did they really hate werewolves that much?

“Werewolf?” the first years whispered.

“Hey, don’t be prats,” said Red. “Let Cedric through.”

“Oh, please,” said Daven. “As soon as we turn our backs, he’ll go savage on us! My dad says all werewolves go savage at one time or another!”

“Do you believe everything daddy tells you?” Cedric asked, clenching his fists. “You guys have known me for years! So much for loyalty!”

“I’m only loyal to those I trust,” said Aiden. “Face it, Cedric. You’re just another Greyback waiting to happen.”

“I’m not!” His hands shook. “Come on… Chester?"

Chester looked away.

“Kyle… mate, what about all the fun we used to have?"

“Things are different now,” he muttered.

“What’s going on here?”

Professor Sprout entered the Common Room, led by Lisha.

“Professor,” said Red. “Aiden and Daven won’t let Cedric into the dorm.”

Professor Sprout gasped. “I’m surprised at you two!”

“I’ll write my father!” said Aiden. “He’s got friends on the school board and they’re sure to agree.”

“Well where am I supposed to sleep?” Cedric demanded.

"Outside where you belong."

“That's enough! Alright, come on,” said Professor Sprout. “Everybody, get to bed or detention for you as well.”

Cedric followed Professor Sprout all the way down the hall, even past the bathrooms. At the end was a door labeled  **Head Boy** .

“Every House has these,” she said. “It’s up to the Head Boy or Girl to use them. Most prefer to stay in their old dorm.”

“With their friends,” Cedric muttered.

“Well, think of it as your own flat,” said Professor Sprout. “To prepare you for Japan.”

“Thank you for your letter of recommendation for that."

“Of course.” She smiled and patted his cheek. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.”

Cedric gave her a hug, then entered his dorm. It was about half the size as his old one, but with only one bed, it felt huge. He had his own desk and even his own bathroom complete with a water closet. He slowly closed his door behind him and went about unpacking, knowing very well that he wouldn’t want to tomorrow.

Once he was changed into his pyjamas, he sat down on the double bed and removed his mirror out of his backpack.

“Hermione,” he said. “Hermione!”

Voices emitted from the mirror.

_ “Herminia, your mirror is talking to you.” _

“Oh!”

In an instant, Hermione’s face appeared and then disappeared in a mass of brown curls.

“Hi, Farm Boy,” she said, pushing her hair back from the wind.

“Hi, love,” he said and furrowed his brow. “Where are you?”

“On the ship,” she replied. “On the way to school. Hold on.”

He got a good view of her shoes and the wind stopped.

“Okay,” she said, appearing once more. “I know it hasn’t even been a day yet, but I miss you so much.”

“I miss you, too,” he said. “Hogwarts feels so weird without you here. During his speech, I could tell Dumbledore was about to say your name for the school tour before saying mine.”

“So,” she said. “Who’s the unlucky S.O.B. that got landed with the defense position?”

“Some lady called Dolores Umbridge,” said Cedric, slumping back against his pillows.

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Umbridge?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the weird lady that was at Harry’s trial!” she said. “Oh… oh, this is bad. Do you know what this means?”

“I do, but tell me anyway.”

“The spy they're placing in Hogwarts has more power than we realized,” said Hermione. “Oh, Cedric, please be careful. Someone like that is dangerous.”

“I know,” he said. “Besides, if Defense sucks I can just drop the class, right?”

“Right,” she said. “Don’t need Defense to be an engineer.”

“Oh, by the way I met a couple new students today,” said Cedric. “Could you ask Tía Constanza to send her book on magic in British-English braille?”

“Certainly,” said Hermione. “I hope the kid was able to get their textbooks in braille.”

“I’ll double check. Also, could you ask Esperanza if there are any books for how she does magic? This one girl is a bit like you except she doesn’t speak at all and I know Esperanza does sign for some of her spells.”

“Yes, of course,” said Hermione. “I’ll let Cecilia know.”

“I heard, Herminia,” came Cecilia’s voice. “We’re almost there so wrap up your call.”

“Alright,” said Hermione. She looked at Cedric. “I have to go.”

“Just as well,” he replied. “I should get to bed anyway. I’ve got tours to run in the morning.”

Hermione blew him a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Cedric replied then closed his mirror with a snap and rolled onto his side. Just as well that he didn’t get a chance to tell her what happened with Aiden and Daven. Knowing her, she would turn that boat around and come back for him.

Heaving a sigh, Cedric plaited his hair, took off his arm, and used his wand to douse the lights.

~o0o~

Hermione put her mirror in her purse and went back to the deck. Maybe this was a bad idea. Cedric wasn’t in his normal dorm room, she could tell. What kind of girlfriend—no—what kind of  _ best _ friend was she to leave him to the wolves? Er, so to speak. She knew very well what people thought of werewolves, especially in England.

Why didn’t she convince him to go to Castelobruxo with her? Even if prejudices weren’t any better, he would have seven Sanchezes to back him up.

“Are you okay, Herminia?” Noa asked.

“I’m fine,” said Hermione. “I’m just worried about Cedric.”

“He’s a big boy,” said Abril. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Hermione touched her wood pendant lightly and sighed. It was just nine and a half months and he’d be free. Four months until they saw each other again. And if things got bad, she’d find a way to help him transfer.

“Herminia, come see your new home.”

She went to the side of the boat and sighed in awe.

After passing through a cloud of wards, they floated above what looked like a small city. Three pyramids rose in the center, two of colorfully painted stone and one that looked to be made of pure gold. They were surrounded by canals that led to other buildings made of colored glass in a Neo-Andean style. She spotted a high cathedral, a mosque with an obsidian dome, and a white synagogue with brown trimming near each other and connected by a spanning Plaza that Bianca explained was where they held the quinceañera celebrations. Just beyond was the midnight blue Astronomy Tower and the faculty living quarters. Past the main canal, Hermione could see the spanning zoo containing habitats for all the creatures and the gardens, each contained in their own microclimate. The setting sun gave everything a dreamlike glow and Hermione barely remembered to take a photo of it all before they drifted down near buildings made of clay and stone.

Each building was painted differently, had a different architecture, and each had a statue of their dorm mascot. As they landed, Hermione could see a giant porcupine, a macaw, a jaguar, a llama, a caiman, a bear, and a wolf guarding the entrances to the dorms. She was certain there were more in front of the others. They were all neon colored and slightly off from the creature they appeared as, like alebrijes. The jaguar had wings, the llama had spines, the porcupine had an armored tail, and so on.

“You’ll be in Hystrice with us,” said Emilia. “Dormitories have a sort of mascot and Doña Claudia likes to keep families together. But there's not really a divide it's just so you can remember where to go."

“Alright,” said Hermione, becoming more overwhelmed as they landed when she saw the high trees hiding the path that was clear from the sky. “H-How will I know where to go?”

“Well, based on your grades,” Noa mused, “you’ll probably be in Group A with me. See, we’re randomized our first four years and our last three years we’re divided by grade so we can choose our courses based on that.”

“Since you were number one at Hogwarts, you’ll be with the smarties like Noa,” Bianca assured. “And you’ll get to pick your classes."

“When do I do that?”

“When we land.”

Their boat slowed to a stop beside a building that was beautifully painted in blue, green, and gold and had the phosphorescent porcupine statue in front of the entrance doors. Students were already dragging in suitcases and one girl was levitating the biggest teddy bear Hermione had ever seen onto a balcony.

Noa’s chair was levitated to the ground by Emilia and Cecilia.

“Bye, Herminia,” said Cecilia.

“Bye, Ceci.” Hermione gave her a giant hug and scaled down the ladder, her purse banging against her hip. “Say hi to Tonks for me.

“Oh, I will.” Cecilia giggled with delight and steered the ship away.

Oh, Hecate, it was hot! Hermione summoned a fan and fanned herself as sweat pricked at her forehead.

“Don’t worry, it’s much cooler inside,” said Josefina. “We have to check in anyway so that we can get our packets.”

Inside the lobby, a man in a t-shirt with the school crest and cargo shorts was standing behind a folding table stacked with welcome packets in manila folders.

“Hola, Señor Luna,” said Noa. “This is our cousin, Herminia. She’s new.”

“A transfer!” said Señor Luna, giving her hand a firm shake. “Nice to meet another Sanchez. I swear your family keeps growing all the time. I am Señor Luna and I am your Den Mother. If you have any trouble you’re welcome to come to me or your assigned counselor Senhora Roque, I am trained in Healing magic and I oversee tutoring sessions. On this floor is the recreation room, Hystrice’s personal library, and downstairs is the laundromat, we do have a rule here at Castelobruxo to keep yourselves well-groomed and your dorm clean. Go ahead and sign in here.”

Hermione scrawled out her signature and accepted her welcome packet.

“Looks like we’re on the top floor,” said Paula.

Hermione followed her cousins to the staircase to the right. Noa pulled on a lever and her wheels unfurled into many legs that scuttled up the staircase. They were on the fourth floor and when they reached it, they found their rooms at the front of the hallway. There was a small mailbox and a removable slip of paper listing the name of the occupant.

Hermione found her room key in her packet and unlocked the door. She was greeted with a rush of cool air and she sighed.

“Unload your trunk and we’ll show you where the cafeteria is,” said Noa. “Bring your packet so you can sign up for your electives.”

“What about books?”

“There’s a school bookstore,” said Josefina.

“Besides,” said Abril, “Esperanza already wrapped up the books you’ll need for this year for us to give to you. They don’t really change, so it’s not uncommon for some students to rent their textbooks or even for siblings to share them. Unfortunately, if a new edition comes out the school will update and that can screw you over.”

It all sounded a lot like university to Hermione. After releasing their pets and unloading their luggage, the gaggle of girls walked down to the canal where they hitched a ride on one of the many rafts. Hermione turned her head this way and that trying to take it all in. The administration buildings were easy to remember as they were red with gold trim and on the same path to get to the gold pyramid. As the sun set further, witches walked along the sidewalk and flicked their channels (wands, staffs, one even tapped the poles with his shoes) to light the lanterns. They passed a plaza that Paula explained was for market day every other weekend.

The mess hall was several stories tall and each level had a kitchen to make sure all 3,000+ students and faculty got food in a decent amount of time. It wasn’t terribly crowded, but people would be arriving from all over Latin America and the Caribbean all weekend. On the ground level there were tables on a veranda that overlooked the gardens and two walls were taken up by food lines.

“They serve different food every day,” said Emilia. “So don’t worry about getting bored with the meals. However, I would recommend stocking up on snacks in your dorm whenever you can. We're allowed to eat in every class except potions and creatures."

Hermione got the arroz con pollo, a pudding cup, and a juice then sat at a table. She opened up her welcome packet and flipped through the handbook before moving on to the sign-up sheet.

“Wow…” she said, looking over the electives. “That’s a lot of classes. Er—what are you guys taking?"

“You should do Capoeira with me,” said Bianca. “You’re good at that fighting stuff and we incorporate it with magic.”

“Okay,” said Hermione, checking off Capoeira. “How many electives do I get?"

"Depends," said Josefina. "Do you want this year to be a fun year and get your remainder credit hours the next two years or let Seventh Year be all fun courses? The only ones required until seventh year are Horticulture and Creature Care. So you have six spots open."

"I suppose I would want to get core classes done first," said Hermione.

"You're in A-Group," said Noa, looking at the packet. "So I recommend the doubles so we can take class together and you can learn even more. We can take Charms/Transfig., Potions/Alchemy, and Runes/Arithmancy. That's five with Horticulture and Magizoology, oh, Capoeira, so you get two more."

"What about History?" Hermione asked.

"That was required the first four years, now it's an elective," said Emilia. "Charms and Transfig is always doubled because they're similar branches."

"I should warn you," said Paula, "the A-Group classes are really fast paced. You're going to have reading and homework nearly every day. You got to be disciplined."

"I can be disciplined," said Hermione. "I was homeschooled for a couple years and Mum and Dad would let me loose with the option to go to them for help."

"You can take beginner's curse breaking with me," said Noa. "I'm not really interested in becoming a curse-breaker, but the class just sounds so fascinating. They teach you how to deactivate wards and how to tell if an object is cursed."

She thought of the locket that had made its home in her pocket. She was so afraid of it being lost that she carried it with her everywhere. Unfortunately, the dark energy and the whispering coming from it was getting worse.

"That sounds useful," she said, marking it.

"You should take debate with me," said Josefina. "I'm not very good at it, but I did the club last year and I think it's helping with my shyness."

“Ooh! Debate,” said Hermione. “I’ll take that. Okay. Capoeira, Beginner’s Curse-Breaking, and Debate. Plus Alchemy/Potions, Transfig./Charms, Runes/Arithmancy, Horticulture and Magizoology."

“Final answer?” Noa asked.

“Final answer,” said Hermione, filling out the papers.

When she was done, Emilia folded them up and cast a charm on it. Now in the shape of a bird, it flew away.

“What was that for?” Hermione demanded.

“Check your schedule in ten minutes.”

Sure enough, ten minutes later ink bled through the blank sheet of paper that was labeled as her class schedule.

“Group A,” she read.

“¡Vaya!” said Noa, looking over her shoulder, “We have the same time block. So, every week it’s going to invert. So, Monday you’ll start with Transfiguration-slash-Charms and the following Monday you’ll start with Horticulture.”

"Why do classes start at ten?" she asked.

"Doña Claudia read that getting children up at the crack of dawn during important stages of development was bad for growth and overall well-being," said Abril. "We're allowed to have snacks in most classes, because she believes well-fed children are more productive."

It looked like on A-days she had Transfiguration/Charms starting at 10:00, then Arithmancy/Ancient Runes, followed by A-Lunch. After lunch, she had Potions/Alchemy, then Capoeira. On B-days, she had Horticulture, then Magizoology, then Debate and, finally, Beginner’s Curse Breaking. After dinner there was a slot designated for screaming time, which would explain study hall back at Hogwarts. However, something on Saturday caught her eye.

“What’s transportation?” she asked.

“Oh, Apparition lessons,” said Paula.

“And driving lessons,” Emilia chimed.

“It’s required,” said Abril.

“I thought Sixth Years took Apparition,” said Hermione.

“Ah, no!” said Emilia. “Sixth years are too busy preparing for their Level 2 E.D.A.M.s, it’s too much work. No, fifteen and sixteen is the best time to start learning and then once you get your license near the end of the school year, you’ll be prepared.”

“You’ll have to schedule your own driving practice times,” said Paula. “You can get a note to miss class for them, but I recommend doing the ones in the morning because the instructors are more patient with the first kids of the day.”

“Good to know,” said Hermione, her stomach twisting in knots at the thought of driving.

“Next weekend, I’d recommend checking out the clubs,” said Bianca. “They’re not required so you can come and go as you please.”

“Depending on who’s running them,” said Josefina. “Noa doesn’t like people who come in and out of her club.”

“It’s disruptive!” Noa defended. “I prefer consistency and that means people who show up to every meeting.”

“Which is why you only have Bembe, Kyoko, and Linda,” said Bianca.

“Bembe, Kyoko, and  _ Luiz _ are my friends,” said Noa. Bianca covered her mouth with her hand in embarrassment. Noa dropped her voice and leaned over to Hermione. “I’d appreciate it if you could stop anyone who tries calling Luiz from his dead name. He just started transitioning after the quinceañera. Despite her troubles with Viktor, Esperanza made him a new wardrobe since he wanted to be more masculine."

“Of course,” said Hermione. She tipped her head. “Is Kyoko a Japanese name?”

“Brazil has a pretty big Japanese population,” Emilia explained.

Hermione didn’t know that. There was still so much she didn’t know.

She looked at her schedule and felt a little overwhelmed. It was a lot and she was still training to be an Animagus.

“Don’t worry,” said Noa. “You have your family here with you to help you.”

“Exactly,” said Paula. “You can come to any of us if you need us.”

Hermione smiled gratefully. “Thanks.”

After dinner, they returned to their dorms. Hermione was finally able to get a good look at her room. There was a water closet (girls showers were at the end of the hall), as well as a full length mirror on the door. There was a dresser and a loft bed with a desk underneath. There was also a sliding door leading to a shared balcony. It looked like she shared it with Noa. Through the window, she got an excellent view of the park across the dorms. Some people had already started a round of football. Hermione hoped the school had a baseball diamond.

After making sure her beloved cat was taken care of, Hermione unpacked her things, lined up her books, and put up her posters and pictures. At least she had the weekend to figure out where her classes were and explore her new home. She went out to the balcony, collapsed in a chair, and sighed.

It was weird not being in Gryffindor Tower. Instead of the howling wind, there was a cool breeze and the sounds of millions of insects, birds, and frogs calling out into the night. She spent the evening reading through the student handbook and the events calendar as well as her weekly schedule, making sure to include times to look into that locket and notebook. Perhaps the Castelobruxo library would have something.

“Hola.”

Noa entered onto the balcony and moved into the chair across from Hermione.

“You okay?”

Hermione shrugged. “This is all so new. I’m worried about Cedric and Harry. They’ve both dealt with so much and I realized how much I do for them. What will they do without me?”

“Grow up,” Noa suggested. “Listen, you can’t do everything for everyone all the time, it will drive you insane.”

“True…”

Hermione leaned back and looked up at the stars. They were so different here…

“You look tired,” Noa commented. “You should get some rest.”

“Good idea."

Even so, she didn’t go to sleep right away. After she was in her pyjamas, she sat down on her bed and read through the student handbook. Unlike Hogwarts, she would have to take care of everything except for meals. She’d need to do her own laundry, make sure that her living quarters were cleaned for weekly inspection, and clean up after Crookshanks. There would also be a scheduled time a week where she and her class would be in charge of harvesting food for the meals or even planting the food for meals. It would be extra work but she was pleased that Castelobruxo didn’t rely on slave labor to tend to their students, plus it taught responsibility.

The rules also seemed to be more updated thanks to Doña Claudia. Hermione studied the map for the school and counted herself lucky she had a cousin that already knew where everything was and could show her where to go. It was so big. Bigger than the grounds of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts put together. Castelobruxo even had a church, a synagogue, and a mosque. Students were allowed to set up shrines in their rooms or on their half of the balcony. She reminded herself to bring her camera tomorrow so she could put together a scrapbook.

She also went through the social events and saw numerous holidays and festivals in respect to each country and culture, the ones for D.R. and general celebrations for witches in bold. Hermione didn't even know there were magical holidays.

It was going to be quite an adjustment.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t posted in a while. Sorry about that. Been busy and all.

September 4th was the official first day of school. Cedric made sure he looked his best and had polished his wand and arm the night before.

Before breakfast, he stopped at the Hufflepuff bulletin and posted the Quidditch tryouts sign-up sheet. He chose Saturday at 6 a.m. since it was just before breakfast and he didn’t want anyone throwing up their food with an afternoon tryout.

Again.

As soon as he sat down, Harjot, Gracie and Artemis, and Winnifred joined him. Red was along soon after.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said. “How’d you all sleep?”

“Just fine,” said Gracie. “Apparently, you can see the Great Squid from our Common Room. I’ll have to take the prefect’s word for it. You seen nothing once, you seen nothing a hundred times.”

Professor Sprout stopped by and handed Cedric his schedule as Professor McGonagall gave the Gryffindors theirs. He unfurled it and felt slightly overwhelmed at the schedule. Digging out a pen, he started scrawling out when he could do his prefect duties and times for Quidditch.

“Hey, Angelina,” he called. “Do you want afternoon practices or mornings?”

“I would prefer afternoon practices,” she said. “Wood ruined mornings for me for the rest of my life.”

“Alright.” Cedric blocked in times for Hufflepuff’s Quidditch practices making a mental note to secure the Pitch with Professor Sprout.

“Don’t think you can win the Cup a second time,” said Angelina. “I’m putting a team together of the best of the best.”

“Looking forward to a challenge,” he said. “Too bad we can’t have Esperanza and Viktor as Keepers anymore.”

Angelina nodded and sighed before speaking to Harry about tryouts.

Ron opened his schedule and groaned.

“Ugh! Look at today! At least we’ve got Lupin, but double Potions, Ancient Runes, and Defense? Fred and George, you’d better hurry up and get those Skiving Snackboxes sorted…”

"But you like Ancient Runes," said Harry

"Not when I have Potions right after."

“Ickle prefect Ronniekins wants to skive off?” George gasped. “What would dear old mummy say?”

“Look what we’ve got!”

“Fair point, little brother of mine,” said Fred, glancing at the column, “We can give you a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like.”

“Why’s it cheap?” Ron asked suspiciously.

“Because you’ll keep bleeding 'til you shrivel up,” said George, helping himself to some breakfast. “Haven’t got an antidote yet.”

“Have you tried yarrow?” Cedric asked. “It’s good for nosebleeds.”

Fred grabbed Cedric’s pen and scribbled  _ yarrow _ onto the back of his hand.

“I oughta go,” said Cedric, looking at his watch.

Charms was his first class of the day and Professor Flitwick was welcoming and even shook Cedric’s hand while voicing his relief that the boy was okay.

“I’m just glad I was allowed back,” said Cedric.

“You aren’t our first werewolf and you most certainly won’t be the last,” said Professor Flitwick, thinking of Professor Lupin and Chiara Lobosca. “Of course, I had put my bid in for you as Head Boy since your fourth year. Pomona said to me she knew you would be Head Boy and I completely agreed.”

Who knew him hexing a group of bullies would make that big of an impression?

“Thank you, sir,” said Cedric. “I won’t let you down.”

“Entirely impossible!”

When he sat, he was flanked by Lisha and Red. Everyone else kept their distance, which hurt a little… Okay, a lot. He wasn’t going to lose hope. He just had to remain open and friendly and everyone would see he hadn’t changed.

“Okay class,” said Professor Flitwick. “N.E.W.T.s are at the end of the school year and while it seems a long way away now, it will be here before you know it. While we will be learning new spells, we will continue working on non-verbal spells. This will be happening in all of your classes. We’ll start with charms you learned your first year. Those of you who learned non-verbal quickly, you might want to start wandless as well. I hear Miss Granger has mastered certain wandless magic.”

“I bet that’s not all she can do,” Ormond Atwood whispered to his buddy just loud enough for Cedric to hear.

Cedric raised his hand.

“Mr. Diggory?”

“Just Cedric, sir,” said Cedric. “I can do a little wandless magic.”

“Wonderful! What can you do?”

Cedric stood up and faced Atwood, placing his palm on the boy’s head.

_ “Entumecerse.” _

Atwood’s eyes rolled back and he slumped over, snoring. Cedric smirked and sat down. The spell wore him out a little more than normal, but it was different on an unwilling subject. Atwood didn’t exactly care if someone was willing or not. He was the person Cedric loathed the most out of any student at Hogwarts.

“Nice,” said Lisha.

“Astounding!” said Professor Flitwick, eyes bright. “I’d never seen anything like it!”

“I learned it while on holiday,” said Cedric vaguely.

He didn’t want anyone to know he was a legilimens and knew that Hermione, Harry, and the Weasleys wouldn’t tell.

“Ten points to Hufflepuff!”

“Great job, Ced,” said Red.

“Can you undo it?” Roger Davies asked.

“Uhh… no. The original point of the charm is to help a person fall asleep if they are unable to. I’m sure dousing him with water would help.”

Even so, nobody, not even Professor Flitwick, woke up Atwood until class was nearly over.

“You’ll pay for that, Diggory,” Atwood spat.

“Just Cedric, please,” said Cedric evenly, not even phased. After what he’d been through, schoolboy threats were laughable.

“Why don’t you want your last name used?” Red asked, toying with the sleeve of his robes.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he replied. “But when you’re disowned, you can’t really have your old last name. I suppose I could use my mum’s maiden name, but I don’t think I quite look like a ‘Willoughby’.”

Red wrinkled his nose and nodded in agreement.

“Anyway, I’ll see you later,” said Cedric. “I’ve got Arithmancy.”

Professor Vector was just as welcoming to Cedric. The teachers had a meeting about him and agreed to treat him kinder than usual to help keep his confidence up. It was kind of them, but unnecessary. Popularity came from peer review and popular people went far. Though, approval from authority figures mattered more the older you got.

And nobody out of the ten people who made it to N.E.W.T. level sat by Cedric. He swallowed back his hurt and prepared for the lesson instead.

The professor mentioned N.E.W.T. projects and Cedric asked if reports needed to be on separate projects or if he could hand in a report on the use of Arithmancy in a project also for Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies, and Transfiguration.

“Well…” said Professor Vector, slowly. “As long as you can also provide a practical demonstration along with the math, wand-movements, order of the layers, and so on, I see no issue with that.”

After Arithmancy was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Cedric was not looking forward to that.

To his surprise, Fred and George Weasley sat beside him in the lecture hall with Lisha on his other side.

“George, Fred,” Cedric greeted. “How goes it?”

George was a little surprised to be mentioned first. Typically people went alphabetical with them.

“Well, considering we only have three O.W.L.s each, we’ve got loads of free time,” he said. “Only classes we don’t have together is Herbology and Transfiguration.”

“Transfiguration is something that I Exceed Expectations at, dear brother,” said Fred.

George rolled his eyes, but grinned.

“A part of me envies your schedules,” said Cedric. “But my employment contract states that they recommend I get N.E.W.T.s in as many subjects as possible. I only dropped Astronomy, Potions, and Care and Keeping.”

“Well, if you do find a moment in being an overachiever, feel free to stop by our office,” said Fred. “Could always use some prank ideas.”

“Portable swamp?” Cedric suggested.

Fred and George exchanged looks and grinned.

“Brilliant.”

_ “Hem, hem!” _

The small cough sent slight chills down Cedric’s spine but he couldn’t determine why, yet. He didn’t like this woman but he shouldn’t be afraid of her, right? She still had to abide by rules and regulations that Hermione made Dumbledore implement on teachers last year.

Professor Umbridge stood in front of the class wearing pink-on-pink gingham robes with a rose quartz and rose gold brooch at her throat, and a condescending smile.

“Good afternoon, class,” she said when the bell rang.

Nobody answered but a couple nodded.

“Well that won’t do, will it?” said Professor Umbridge in her condescending and rehearsed tone. The last two classes were not as welcoming either. “From now on, I should like you, please, to reply, ‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.’ One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!”

“Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,” everyone chanted back at her.

“There,” said Professor Umbridge sweetly. “That wasn’t too difficult, was it? Even of-age witches and wizards should learn proper respect.”

Give respect where respect was due. Why should she expect them to respect her when she can’t even talk to them like adults?

“Wands away and quills out, please.”

Extremely putout, everyone put their wands away. Cedric slid his in his holster and withdrew a pen rather than a quill. He made a budget and found he could save more money for his projects if he used pens and pencils on notebook paper instead.

Using lined paper also made Cedric realize why Hermione got pissed off when Harry and Ron complained about homework. A page-and-a-half was not a lot of writing. Barely even five hundred words depending on how big you wrote.

Professor Umbridge reached into her pepto-bismol pink handbag, extracting her own wand, which was rather short, and tapped it on the board.

_ Defense Against the Dark Arts _

_ A Return to Basic Principles _

Um…?

“Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn’t it?” Professor Umbridge stated, turning to face the class with her stubby hands clasped in front of her. “The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year.

“You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.”

Cedric scribbled out the three course-goals: 1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. 2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used. 3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

“I trust everyone has a copy of  _ Defensive Magical Theory _ by Wilbert Slinkhard?”

It sounded familiar. Cedric furrowed his brow and removed the required text out of his backpack. The cover was a fifties style painting of two children, a boy and girl pointing at a book that had a replica of themselves on it. Unable to help himself, he snorted.

“Is something amusing?” said Professor Umbridge.

“No, Professor Umbridge,” said Cedric, still staring at his copy. “I was merely being nostalgic. My mother assigned me this reading when I was  _ six _ .”

George and Fred snickered, Red hid his with a cough.

“I see, and your name is—?”

This woman knew his name. He knew that she knew that he knew she knew his name.

“Cedric,” he replied.

“Cedric…?”

“No last name. I have no blood relatives or guardians to speak for me at the moment.”

It hit several people that Cedric really was disowned. There was pity … and schadenfreude. Pricks.

“Well, Mr. Cedric,” said Professor Umbridge. “What makes you think that the lessons taught in this book are not as useful to you now?”

“Professor, there isn’t anything about _ using _ defensive spells in your course objectives,” said Cedric. “At our age, we’ve had more than enough experience.”

A wave of realization washed over them that the course objectives indeed did not mention using spells.

“ _ Using _ defensive spells?” Professor Umbridge repeated with a light scoff. “Why, I can’t imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to  _ use _ a defensive spell, Mr.  _ Diggory _ . You surely aren’t expecting to be attacked during class?”

“It happened our first year,” said Red. “The teacher went crazy and started firing stunning spells. He then ended up in a—”

“Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.—?”

“Ellis,” said Red, shooting his hand up.

Professor Umbridge pointedly looked away from him.

“Please, open your books to page five and read chapter one. Even if you have read it before, read it again for maximum retention.”

At their age, everyone here believed they knew best because they could perform magic outside of school. This was supposed to be when they were practicing dueling. Non-verbal dueling. Lessons on dangerous creatures and how to fend them off. Recognizing curses on sight. Honing in reaction time.

Which meant that there was solidarity and nobody opened their books, choosing instead to stare at the professor with their hands raised to question her methods. Something like this could  _ maybe _ scrape by for first-years for at least the first month.

Umbridge couldn’t ignore them.

“Yes, Miss—?”

“St. Vincent,” said Tabatha. “I agree with Cedric, we’re all far too advanced for this sort of learning. I would think a standardized education would be based by year. Besides, we have a practical, if we spend an entire year not practicing—”

“The learning and theory should be sufficient enough to carry you through the practical portion of your N.E.W.T.s,” Professor Umbridge replied.

They were riling her up.

“We need to prepare for the real world,” said Cedric.

“How can we defend ourselves if we don’t keep up our skills?” asked Fred.

“You are still children,” said Professor Umbridge shrilly. “Who on earth would want to attack children?”

“Vampires,” said Tabatha.

“Dark wizards,” Fred and George chimed.

“Pedophiles,” Cedric interjected.

This was followed by calls of agreement and other examples. Because their hands were up, Professor Umbridge couldn’t get on their case about speaking without their hands up. Malicious compliance.

“You may speak when I call on you,” she said through gritted teeth. “You will learn about these things in a safe, Ministry-approved environment.”

Cedric’s temper ran away with him.

“You want to know what  _ else _ was Ministry regulated and approved?” he asked, voice rising. “The Triwizard Tournament. Dragons, threatening to drown loved ones, the entire maze. I lost my arm! I could have lost my best friend to your Ministry's regulations!"

“Perhaps if you had studied theory a little more thoroughly—”

“A bit hard to be focused on theory when you see Voldemort and his lackeys,” he said. “You’re saying that allowing Ludo Bagman to curse the trophy into a Portkey in an attempt to kill Harry Potter was just one big accident? That’s, like, thirty accidents in a row!”

Several people yelped at the use of Voldemort’s name. Cedric’s comments started a new spur of questions and discord.

“ _ ENOUGH! _ ” Professor Umbridge shrieked. She glared at Cedric, eyes blazing.

He knew he fucked up.

“I  _ will _ have order,” she said in a clipped tone. “Detention, Mr. Diggory. Meet me in my office after dinner.”

This woman despised him with every fibre of her being. For being a werewolf. A half-breed. Something he had no control over. She was the one who wrote the Law stating he couldn’t own property thus taking away the rights to his farm. She was going to make his life hell.

Shit.

Cedric slowly sat down and opened the textbook to page five.

“Oh, and Mr. Diggory? I do expect you to have proper writing instruments in my class.”

“Yes, Professor Umbridge,” he said in a sing-song tone.

Out of habit, everyone else followed his lead. Seemed old habits died hard when you’ve influenced people for so long.

Cedric didn’t read, so much as stare down at the pages. Instead, he thought about his summer. He imagined himself walking along the beach. Sand in his toes, wind in his hair, the smell of salt.

“Class dismissed,” said Professor Umbridge. She had a sense of victory. She thought she won.

“Never seen you speak up like that, Ced,” said Fred. “Knew you didn’t take shit, but that was brilliant.”

“She’s going to make me regret it,” he replied. “I know she will.”

“I believe you, you know,” said Red. “About V-Voldemort. He’s pretty much wizard Hitler and if you, Harry Potter, and Dumbledore say he’s out there then it must be true. I’ve never known you to lie.”

"Thanks, Red," said Cedric. "You're part of a select few. Everyone else doesn't  _ want _ to believe it. Silence is compliance."

Fred and Red didn't have Herbology N.E.W.T.s so Cedric and George walked to Greenhouse 3 together, Tabatha tagging on.

"Can't believe it," she muttered. "Whether You-Know-Who is out there or not doesn't mean there aren't other dangers! You-Know-Who isn't the only Dark Wizard in the history of Dark Wizards. What if this whole thing is a copycat? Of course, I'm not denying what you and Potter saw, Cedric. But if they don't believe it's him wouldn't it be just as plausible as a copycat from one of his followers? And a copycat should be taken seriously."

"Good point," said George.

"Anyway, I think it's totally unfair that she gave only you detention," Tabatha continued. "You were only speaking the truth. The Ministry did approve the Triwizard Tournament and look how that turned out!"

"I'm reminded every day," Cedric mumbled.

Hermione's carriage from her first year was still in place, gleaming in the sunlight. Fragrant flowers spilled out of the windows and vines wrapped around the wheels. It had really grown beautiful. It's amazing she was able to use Cedric's wand at all. Typically, it only worked for him, but he supposed Hermione's desire to go to the ball overpowered the wand's stubbornness.

He missed that wand, but he loved his new one.

Professor Sprout greeted them as they entered. She seemed pleased with the turnout considering some N.E.W.T. students tended to drop classes their seventh year.

"Hello, class," she said. "Cedric, welcome back."

"Good to be back," he said, though with less certainty than this morning. "Oh! I brought you a gift."

"Cedric, you didn't have to do that," said Professor Sprout, touched by the gesture.

Cedric dug into his side pocket and produced a glass sphere with a tiny jélvre plant inside.

"It's a magical succulent related to aloe vera," he said and gave it to her. "Mama Guadalupe allowed me to take a trimming and plant it."

"Oh, it's lovely," she gushed, studying the pink and bluish-green hue before placing it on one of the many plant hooks. "I will take good care of it."

He sat at a table with George, Tabatha, and Lee Jordan. He could feel eyes on him. He wanted to snap something, but if he wanted to maintain his previous image then he had to stay nice and good.

He was tired of being nice and good, but kindness in the face of adversity was punk.

As the lesson began, Cedric put his hair in a low tail and tucked it under his collar. Venomous Tentacula liked to grab onto ponytails and he didn't want to cut vines out of his hair.

Herbology was the least taxing class. Cedric knew his exhaustion would only increase until his transformation. Luckily, he had Sunday to recover.

His dread of detention increased as the afternoon went on. As he ate dinner, he worked on homework since he wasn't sure how long his detention would go.

After dinner, Cedric and Harry went to Umbridge’s office.

“What happened in your class?” Harry asked.

“Seventeen-year-olds don’t like being spoken to like children,” he said. “And I questioned the Ministry’s idea of regulation.”

“Ah, yeah, I insisted that Voldemort has returned,” said Harry.

“We have people on our side,” Cedric assured him.

“But not enough…”

“No,” he agreed. “But we’ve got my friends Red and Lisha in Hufflepuff and Tabatha St. Vincent from Slytherin. I don’t think Tabatha  _ completely _ believes Voldemort has returned. She knows we went through something and believes it’s a copycat.”

“I suppose I could live with that,” said Harry. “At least people would take a copycat seriously.”

“This reminds me of Jaws,” Cedric muttered.

“I never saw that one,” said Harry. “I wanted to, but Hermione didn’t want to watch it again.”

“It was pretty scary,” said Cedric. “Basically, a big-ass shark stalks a small seaside town and it killed someone and the Mayor is like: ‘No! If people knew there were shark attacks, then they wouldn’t come!’ because, you know, tourism.”

“Sounds familiar,” Harry muttered.

They fell silent as they drew closer to their destination. Harry knocked on the door.

“Enter,” came Umbridge’s voice.

The office was top-to-bottom pink. Rose-colored walls, magenta curtains, carpets that looked like a lion puked up a cherry smoothie, all the way down to the Not-So-Pretty in Pink Lady herself. Any free space on the wall was covered in china plates with pictures of mewling kittens on them.

This was a set up for a sweet, old grandma who liked to give out cookies. Not a Ministry lap dog who had something horrible in stock for them.

“Good evening,” said Professor Umbridge.

“Good evening, Professor Umbridge,” said Cedric.

“Evening,” said Harry stiffly.

Cedric knew what he had to do to save his ass. 282 days until he was free.

“Take a seat,” she said. “You will be doing lines.”

Cedric sat at the lace covered desk closest to the door, quietly resting his backpack between his feet, and Harry sat in the other one allowing his schoolbag to thud onto the floor. Both desks had blank scrolls of parchment waiting for them. The straight-backed chair pressed uncomfortably into his shoulder and tailbone ensuring perfect posture for the unlucky sitter.

“Er,” said Harry, “Professor Umbridge? Er — before we start, I-I wanted to ask you a… a favor.”

“Oh, yes?”

Cedric closed his eyes and listened to the painful interaction. He felt Harry’s surge of anger and the pain caused at forcing himself to quiet.

“Anything to declare, Mr. Diggory?” she asked sweetly.

“Of course not, Professor Umbridge,” said Cedric with borderline sarcasm.

“Very good,” she said, grin widening.

Harry and Cedric both went for their quills when Professor Umbridge stopped them.

“You won’t need your quills,” she said. “You two will be using  _ special _ quills.”

That didn’t sound good…

Cedric placed his hands flat on the desk while she set the quills in front of them. They were bronze-tipped and had a blood-red feather.

“You haven’t given us any ink,” said Harry.

“Oh, you won’t need any.”

Cedric and Harry exchanged glances. Harry was mostly confused and hadn’t liked this either. Lines were a suspicious punishment.

“Mr. Potter, you will be writing _ : I must not tell lies. _ ” said Umbridge. “Mr. Diggory, you will be writing _ : I will not question the Ministry’s methods and will not tell lies. _ ”

“How many,” Harry asked, already upset that Cedric’s was much longer than his for the same ‘crime’.

“Just until it sinks in,” she replied.

Cedric lowered his eyes to his paper and began to write.

_ I will not question the Ministry’s methods and will not tell lies. _

_ I will not question the Ministry’s methods and will not tell lies. _

_ I will not question the Ministry’s methods and will not tell lies. _

A prickling sensation began on his residual limb, which turned to an itch, and then to pain. Dropping his quill, he wrenched his arm off and pulled off the sock, seeing the words etching themselves into his skin. Cedric looked up in horror as the skin healed over, leaving faint traces of the words down his bicep.

Harry had the same look of horror as he stared at his left hand.

“Yes?” said Professor Umbridge, eyes bright with satisfaction.

“N-nothing,” said Harry.

Cedric shook his head.

“Right,” she replied, “because deep down, you  _ know _ you deserve this.”

This woman was insane. When the two boys ducked their heads back to their paper, she oozed with the satisfaction of breaking them.

Cedric kept writing until it felt mechanical, he let his mind wander, and tried to imagine himself back in Hawaii or the D.R. The sand between his toes, the ocean current dragging at his legs, or Hermione’s hand in his. He tried to imagine steering a boat with the wind in his hair. He tried to imagine what his job in Japan would be like and if he would have a separate work room or if they would all work in the same lab with their own stations.

“Mr. Diggory, come here,” said Professor Umbridge. “I want to make sure the message has sunk in before you attend to your duties.

Cedric slowly got up and pushed his sleeve to show his raw, bleeding skin. Umbridge stroked a thumb over it leaving him with the feeling of needles being stuck into him.

He knew what he must do to get out of the entire week.

“I’m sincerely sorry, Professor,” he said, barely able to keep the tremor out of his voice. “I will not question the Ministry’s methods or—or lie again.”

She smiled. She believed she broke him already.

“I see the message sunk in,” she said sweetly. “Mr. Diggory, you may go for your prefect duties. I will see you again tomorrow evening.”

“Thank you, Professor Umbridge.” He would serve detention tomorrow, but she had already decided he would not serve the rest of the week as long as he did not ask for anything. Harry, however, would.

Cedric rushed out, limb screaming in pain. He ducked into a nook and wrapped up his limb, wincing when he reattached his prosthetic. Quickly, he penned out a letter to Viktor.

_ Hey Viktor, _

_ How are you doing? I’d be lying if I said I was fine but I won’t go into detail with that. An enchantment is preventing me from talking about it, but I’ll try in a convoluted manner. What do you know about a writing utensil with a navy red bird hair and it doesn’t use any natural ink when you use it? I know you don’t like thinking about the things you learned about at Durmstrang, but someone who won’t burn the castle to the ground needs to know. _

_ — Cedric _

He sent the letter using a school owl and went to bed. With Harry in all these detentions, he wondered when he’d be able to start teaching him Occlumency.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some misconceptions about Portuguese and Latin American Spanish. These have been corrected thanks to help from a Brazilian guy I work with.

Hermione didn't socialize much over the weekend, choosing instead to memorize the pathways to her classes. The campus was so big that even with her issued map she got turned around. The biggest help was that no two buildings looked the same, so at least she wouldn't go into the wrong one come Monday. Even so, she absolutely loved the place. It was so interesting and by the looks of the club posters going up on the bulletin boards, there would never be a dull moment.

Sunday afternoon, Hermione was circling the Astronomy Tower trying to find the entrance to the library. The map said it was here, but the area didn't have a sign. A super tall girl approached her.

"Hey," she said in Portuguese. "I don't recognize you. How'd you get in?"

"I'm new," Hermione replied in Spanish. "I came here from Hogwarts."

"Oh, transfer student," said the girl, nodding. "I'm Aldina Barreto, one of the Head Students. You seem lost."

"I am," said Hermione. "I'm new here and I'm trying to find the library. The map says it's here…"

"The map is correct," said Aldina with a nod. She led Hermione around the tower until they reached the side closest to the entrance to the top of the tower. She knocked three times and the stones parted revealing a new staircase. "Handicap entrance is by the administrative building. You're a Cursed Sanchez, aren't you?"

"Y-yes," said Hermione, following her down the stairs.

"There's a whole group of curse afflicted kids here," Adlina continued. "Blood curses, family curses, cursed by cranky fairies. They're usually outcasts, but since Doña Claudia doesn't abide by bullying, you'll just get ignored. Most people are nice or apathetic, but you get your bullies here and there. If it can't be proven, you'll be assigned someone who'll watch out and snitch for you."

"But I was told snitches get stitches," said Hermione, touching her shoulder.

"Maybe back we're you're from but here? We settle grudges after the new year with a good duel or fist fight. Got that from a town in Peru. If you can't fight, the dueling club has champions you can choose. My favorite was always Esperanza. Girl can crush a watermelon between her thighs and she was always the Champion for the trans kids. Like me."

"Wow… the beef duels sound amazing. I kinda wish Hogwarts had that."

"Yeah, there's no place like Castelobruxo," said Aldina. "Anyway, here's the library."

They reached the bottom step and Hermione could have cried with glee. Spanning the underground was a massive library stacked with more books than Beast's castle. More books than anyone could read in one lifetime spanned multiple levels and, rather than torches, the library was lit with bubbles of light. There were also study tables with lamps and posters for tutoring on the board next to the check out desks.

"The lower you go, the more advanced the books," said Aldina. "Anything in particular you're looking for?"

"Well… I found a cursed object in my brother's house," she said, twisting her ring. "I don't exactly know what kind of curse it is and wasn't even sure if this library would have that sort of information.”

"Cursed objects will be on Level three," said Aldina. "That's upper years five and above only unless you have clearance from a teacher. Doña Claudia doesn't believe in censoring, but she does think that there's a certain age where you're ready to learn things."

"Wouldn't that potentially lead to students using the knowledge for nefarious purposes?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Well, yes," Aldina conceded, "but that also means that people going into law-enforcement, curse-breaking, and science will know how to counteract that knowledge." She smiled. "It's better to be prepared than not know and have the bad guy get their knowledge from somewhere else, saco?"

"That makes sense," said Hermione, turning her attention back to the books. "How many can I check out at once?"

"It depends on the section," said Aldina. "You can choose ten books from the first two levels, the next two only five, and the levels below that only two. If you hoard books, especially when there are essays due, that number will go down until you can prove that you'll be respectful."

"Can I check a book out now?" she asked, nearly drooling.

Aldina laughed. "Sorry, Sanchez. Library isn't officially open until the first day of school tomorrow, but you can sit here and read. Get out of the sun. There are reading sections scattered around.”

"What time does the library close?"

"Ten on weekdays, midnight on weekends. I wouldn't go into the lower level sections until tomorrow, though. The librarians can be strict."

"Oh, I know about strict librarians," said Hermione.  "Madam Pince from Hogwarts always claimed the perfect library was one with no people."

Aldina smiled.

"I'll leave you to it."

"Thank you, Aldina."

Hermione put on her headphones and perused the selection, mostly making a list of books that looked like an interesting read. Luckily, all the books had multiple copies in multiple languages. From heavy tomes to graphic novels that demonstrated potion recipes, Hermione's list grew until she had well over a hundred. So many books, so little time to read. Honestly, if she had her time-turner, she would have used it to go to class and live in the library just so she would have the time to read them all.

Maybe Cedric would be able to invent a revolving bookshelf so Hermione would have a place for all her books. She turned to say as such and remembered for the hundredth time that he was half a world away; her heart ached at the thought. She looked around for one of the elusive librarians, but found no one, so she dug her mirror out of her pocket.

"Show me Cedric."

It immediately showed her his new room, she could just see him writing out something in a planner or a notebook at desk.

"Cedric," she whispered as loud as she dared and tapped on the mirror which somehow caused the other one to fall over.

It was picked up a moment later and she saw Cedric's face.

"I wondered when you would find the library," he said. "Is it big?"

"Huge!" she gushed and went to the railing to show him. "It must be three—no— _ four _ times bigger than the Hogwarts library. It's all underground so it acts as a preservation system. The people I've spoken to so far are nice and, oh, Cedric I wish you were with me."

He smiled sadly and sighed. "Well, winter holiday will be here before we know it and the both of us are going to be busy, we'll hardly notice."

"You're telling me." Hermione sat on one of the ladders. "I'm double-blocking classes. I don't quite know how it is going to work yet, but I hear it's intense. It also looks like I might be able to find out more about that locket I found in the floorboards."

"And the diary?"

She pursed her lips and looked around. "I don't know… I can't make any sense of the code. Maybe there's a book in here that will help."

A bell-chimed and Hermione sighed.

"I have to get to dinner. I'll probably spend tonight preparing for class tomorrow, but I'll call you soon, okay?"

"Alright. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Hermione blew him a kiss and put the mirror away. She looked around the library once more then left to get to dinner. They were having asados, barbecued meat, to celebrate everyone's return to school. It was delicious and Hermione went back for seconds. She had a lot of fun chatting with her family and meeting their friends.

"So, Galaxy, how you liking Castelobruxo so far?" Bembe asked.

Hermione looked up. "Are you talking to me?"

"He has nicknames for all of us," said Noa with an eyeroll. "None of them clever."

"Yeah, Noa is 'Wheels' 'cause that's how she get around, Luiz is 'Shrimp' because of him small size, Kyoko is 'Salsa', and you are 'Galaxy' because Noa said Star Eye is off limits."

"Why is Kyoko 'Salsa'?"

"Because I tried to sneak a jar of salsa into Creatures for the bowtruckles," Kyoko muttered. "It attracts them. I just didn't know Castelobruxo had so many of them!"

Noa, Bembe, and Luiz laughed at the memories. Hermione smiled lightly.

"As far as nicknames go, it isn't the worst one I've had," she said.

When Hermione finished her dinner, she bid goodnight to everyone and left with a small crowd that was heading back to the dorms. She listened to her music on the way and studied the way the wards were constructed. She wondered where the anchor stones were. Perhaps underneath the library or maybe beneath the Headmistress' office. Not that she was likely to see them in this place. It was only by curiosity and luck that she saw the ones at Hogwarts.

In her room, Hermione prepared her uniform and books and things for class tomorrow. She was a little nervous and put on her necklace to help calm her nerves a bit more. She changed into her pajamas, removed most of her jewelry except for two rings, the larimar and Cedric's, and went about her routine. Once her nightly routine was completed, her teeth brushed and flossed, her face washed, and her hair neatly tucked in her satin wrap, she climbed into bed, said her animagus chant, and closed her eyes. No way would she fall asleep, but she could at least rest and meditate.

It would be good enough.

~o0o~

Hermione's alarm went off at 8 and through the crack in her balcony door, she could hear other alarms. She stared at the pictures she taped to the ceiling for a long moment before dragging her butt out of bed. If she wanted breakfast before the line, then she needed to get moving before everyone else.

Humming to herself, she dressed in her uniform, laced up her gladiator sandals, put on her favorite jewelry, and made sure her hair looked good. She decided to put on the gold colored eyepatch. After one more bag check, she kissed Crookshanks goodbye and left the balcony door open so he could have some room to roam. Maybe visit the other pets on their balconies.

Paula left her dorm at the same time and the pair walked to breakfast together.

"I'm sure you wish Esperanza was here, huh?" said Paula.

Hermione wiggled her hand. "A bit. I don't think I would have gotten through fourth year without her."

Paula nodded.

"You were always close with her. She sees you as another sister and protected you as such. Esperanza was raised to prepare as a Sanchez Matriarch. Tía Manola is next and she'll finish training Esperanza when it's time. The Matriarch is typically the oldest woman, but in our family she's the woman who keeps everyone together, makes sure things run smoothly, things like that."

"But that might change," said Hermione. "What if she follows Viktor to Bulgaria? I mean, his career is there."

"He won't be a Seeker forever," Paula reasoned. "Quidditch Players usually quit by their late thirties, sometimes sooner due to injury, sometimes later due to stubbornness. The oldest Quidditch player was seventy-six and he died on the pitch. So now they cap it at fifty-five."

"So you think they'll get back together?"

"I think they're crazy about each other, and I think Esperanza deserves the most happiness out of all of us. Especially, after what she's been through. But I think she needs to be the one to make the first move. If Viktor chases her, all she'll do is run. I think he knows that and that's why he left quietly."

Hermione hummed and squinted at the rising sun reflecting off the pyramid. "Is it always that bright?"

Paula chuckled. "Better get used to it, cousin. Luckily, it's never as hot inside as it is outside thanks to geothermal cooling."

For breakfast, Hermione had cereal and prepared a stock of fruit and protein bars in her bag. She would need her strength today, she knew that much.

The others arrived to breakfast in their own time. Hermione noticed that nearly everyone was sleepy, but hardly anyone had the morning angries of kids who had to get up too early. It was actually rather odd to be starting class so late, but Hermione knew later in the semester she would be glad for it.

Besides, having dinner at five always left her feeling hungry at bedtime anyway. Seven was much more reasonable and students had to be in their dorms by eleven on weekdays, so after class and dinner, clubs could still happen. Hermione wished these were the type of academic changes Hogwarts was making.

After breakfast, she, Noa, Bembe, Luiz, and the older triplets went to the main pyramid. Bianca and Josefina diverged to get to Pyramid B. It was determined that it would be easier to keep core classes in one pyramid, divided by group. Group A was blue stone at the base and gold on top, Group B looked to be made of green glass and black stone, and Group C was red stone with mosaic images. Hermione hadn't realized how big the step pyramid actually was until she was at the base. She had to lean back just to see the top.

Some kids ran up stationary stairs, while others took the escalator type stairs. Noa went over to a slow moving slope. It had perfect spaces to keep her chair steady while they went to the top. Hermione quickly stepped on the escalator and tried not to think about how high they were going. She just gripped onto her backpack and stared straight ahead.

The classes were all grouped together in what was determined the best order. The Potions and Alchemy classrooms were at the top so that the fumes would have a place to exit and if there was a fire, there were emergency slides at every window all the way to the base. Even here, Hermione could smell the ingredients, though it wasn't as stifling as the dungeon back at Hogwarts.

When they reached the top, Noa took one of the elevators and everyone else took the stairs down. It wasn't very far, once they were on the second level from the top, the rest of the way was a steady ramp. There must've been some magic on the doorways so wheelchairs wouldn't get caught, yet the classrooms were perfectly level.

They didn't have to go far for their first class. Each classroom in this pyramid were lecture hall style. Hermione sat in the front row between Bembe and Noa and readied her notebook and pen.

"Who's the new kid?" someone whispered.

"I heard she's another Sanchez."

"Cursed Sanchez? That family is growing every day."

Hermione looked over her shoulder. "Didn't your mama tell you it's rude to talk about people behind their backs? At least speak up so we can all be in the loop."

Several people giggled. Noa half-smiled at Hermione.

Señora Alvarez entered the classroom. She was middle-aged, wore a low bun, green robes, and a sunny expression. "Good morning, class."

Most of the class got to their feet. "Good morning, Señora Alvarez." They immediately sat down.

Señora Alvarez flicked her wand and stacks of the syllabus passed themselves out.

"Please read this in its entirety tonight and fill out your planners," she said. "Open your textbooks to Chapter One and prepare to take notes. Unit One is going to be a quick review of what you have learned last year and how that will apply to your spells this year. This will only be a week and then next week we'll begin Unit Two which will focus on enchantments on objects."

Hermione scribbled down notes as fast as she could and began to wonder if she needed her Dicta-Quill, when Señora Alvarez stepped away from the chalkboard.

"We will test these spells on Friday," she said. "There will be a quiz and each of you will perform five random spells for me, so be sure you know all of them. See you Wednesday."

And just like that, she exited a door near the windows. Moments later, a man entered the room. He appeared older than Señora Alvarez and dressed in a linen suit.

"Good morning, class," he said.

Once again, the class stood and replied, "Good morning, Señor García."

He, too, passed out a syllabus and launched right into lecture on revision of transfiguration techniques. It was much different than Professor McGonagall's method.

He asked lots of questions to test knowledge and whenever Hermione raised her hand, more than half of the class raised theirs to answer, so she hardly got called on.

"Be sure to study up because next week we will go into Vanishing and Conjuring spells. All your homework assignments are on the syllabus. I will accept late work, but please be aware that every day you are late, two points will be deducted. You are dismissed."

Hermione packed up her things quickly and hurried after her cousin to Arithmancy and Ancient Runes which was the fourth level down.

Same routine. Syllabus, lecture, test on Friday. Homework is on the syllabus.

Finally, the lunch bell tolled and everyone stampeded to the Mess Hall. For lunch, the first level was strictly for disabled students, so Bembe and Luiz booked it upstairs to one of the other lines while Hermione and Noa got to line up on the first floor. Hermione just got whatever her cousin got and they sat at the same table.

As she ate, Hermione read through her syllabi. Charms had six units. Unit 1 was review, Unit 2 was enchantments on objects, Unit 3 was on household charms, Unit 4 was on human enchantments like bodily modification, healing, and the like, while Units 5 and 6 were on offensive and defensive spells respectively.

Transfiguration had seven units. Review, Vanishing, Conjuring, Advanced Switching Spells, Animal transfiguration, Human Transfiguration, and defensive spells.

Arithmancy had only three units: Review of Numerology, Spell Deconstruction, and Spell Creation. Ancient Runes had eight units: Hieroglyphics/Hieratic, Sanskrit, Cuneiform, Glagolitic, Aramaic, Ugaritic, Jiaguwen, and Atlantean. Each unit would cover how those ancient writing systems would affect magical crafting and spellwork. If she wanted to there were electives that delved deeper into those writing systems and how their use effected magic.

Just about every night she would have reading and homework.

"Heads up," said Emilia. "Señor García likes to give pop quizzes for every single reading. They don't count as much, but they accumulate and Señora Alvarez prefers practical quizzes throughout the unit and written exams at the end of each unit."

"Hmmm, you think?" Hermione shook her hand out and went back to filling out her planner. Better to do it now rather than fill it out tonight and waste precious time studying.

"It's a lot," said Bianca. "That's why I'm taking Group B classes. Save myself the headache."

"I can handle it," said Hermione. "If I can handle twelve classes plus my GCSE, I can handle this. What do we have next? Potions and Alchemy?"

"Yeah, it's the only class we're not allowed to eat in," said Noa. "We're probably just going to do the safety lab again and class will end early. We review it every year. Now, Potions and Alchemy alternate class because two hours for potions is better than just one."

"We never had a safety lab at Hogwarts," said Hermione. "I mean, I know the fundamentals thanks to Chemistry, but… yeah."

"Even though you have your planner, I would keep the syllabi somewhere safe," Paula warned. "Anything can happen."

A glob of sauce fell on her planner. "Right."

Lunch didn't feel like an hour and much too soon they were rushing back towards the pyramid.

"Do we get detention if we're late?" she asked.

"Doña Claudia doesn't believe in detention," said Bembe. "If you are in trouble, you choose between volunteer work, study hall, or meditation. Unless it's something really bad like assaulting another student, in that case you don't get a choice."

"I'd like to say no problem," said Hermione, "but my anger tends to get ahead of me. Usually, though, I don't strike unless I'm hit first."

"Well, that's different," said Noa. "Bullies and victims don't get the same punishment. And certain things will get you straight up expelled."

Hermione knew exactly what and bit her tongue to keep from blurting it out. They knew, she knew. It wasn't going to be a problem.

They entered the Potion's lab, which looked similar to Mama Hana's lab, except it had tables interspersed throughout the room that sat four people. Each one was equipped with a drain for spilled potions. Hermione noticed that there weren't as many students in this class. Probably about fifteen of them when there were thirty in the other classes.

"Most people take these courses separate," said Noa. "I'd rather get all my credit hours out of the way, so my final year I can take whatever I want."

That sounded good to Hermione.

A young witch who looked hardly out of school entered the classroom. She had long, dark hair and a scowl. A twinge of fear pinged Hermione's chest. She hoped this wasn't another Snape.

"Buenas tardes, class," she said coolly.

"Buenas tardes, Señora Díaz," the class chorused.

Señora Díaz passed out the syllabus.

"Before we begin today's lecture," she said, expression unchanging, "I'd like to learn a bit about you. It's important to me that we build a connection, because I want you to know that if you ever need help, you can come to me. If you think that a recipe isn't turning out right, you can come to me and we'll figure out a better method. I love proving old men wrong."

The more Hermione heard, the more she was reminded of Noa. Straight-faced, calm, neutral, but still carried an air that said "mess with me and I'll kick your butt." Hermione looked at her cousin and saw the girl rapt with attention.

"So," Señora Díaz continued, "let's go around the room and you can tell me your name, the hardest potion you've ever brewed, and one of your favorite things. I'll go first. I'm Vanessa Díaz, the hardest potion I ever brewed was Felix Felicis and my favorite thing to do outside of class is jewelry-making."

Hermione raised her hand to volunteer to go next. Señora Díaz nodded at her.

"I'm Herminia Granger-Sanchez," said Hermione. "The hardest potion was a Polyjuice Potion my second year at Hogwarts and my favorite thing outside of class is photography."

Everyone raised their heads.

"Polyjuice?" Señora Díaz repeated. "I didn't realize Hogwarts did potions that advanced. Especially for second years."

"Oh, it was outside of class, señora," said Hermione. "I brewed it in a haunted lavatory. It was successful."

"Why would you do that?" someone asked.

Hermione paused. "Er… fun?"

"Well, if you ever want extra lessons for potioneering, I would love to mentor you," said Professor Díaz. "Moving on."

Hermione wondered if she should have lied. Some people were giving her looks. Why should she care though? She didn't care. She wasn't here to make friends, she was here for protection and to learn more than she ever could at Hogwarts.

Hermione and Noa split when it was time for Capoeira. Bianca met up with her and they walked down to the classroom together. It was set up more like a gym with hard floors covered with mats. There were fourteen others in the class, all sitting down in a circle.

Also in the gym were several dance teams including the samba class.

“Do we need to change?” Hermione asked, sitting down.

Bianca shook her head. “Nah, Shakira, our instructor says when we’re out in the real world, we won’t have time to change clothes.”

“Is this like normal Capoeira?” Hermione asked.

“Eh… a little.” Bianca wiggled her hand. “It’s like the original one created by African slaves, a fighting style disguised as a dance, but this one involves a staff and even wandless magic. There are entire shows and competitions based around this, but it’s also useful in real life. Most wizards are caught off guard when they find themselves in a dance battle.”

“Hello, everyone,” said Shakira, entering the class. She was petite like a gymnast and had fire engine red hair. “Welcome, Herminia. I assume you have background in fighting, otherwise Doña Claudia would not have let you enroll without the prerequisite."

“Yes,” said Hermione. “Taekwondo.”

“Ah, very aerial with lots of kicks, perfect for Capoeira. Okay, class, time to warm up!”

Hermione hadn’t had a workout like that in a long time. It would probably take a month, but then she'd be back to the level she was back in third year. Luckily, Shakira provided them with plenty of water and a reasonable amount of breaks.

After class, she was so tired she had considered skipping dinner. It would've been a bad idea and she needed to keep her momentum up if she was going to get her homework done. She couldn't fall behind for a moment.


End file.
